Breaking the Routine
by restmychemistry78550
Summary: AU Rick and Michonne carry their own baggage, both divorced from their partners. The two of them are forced to grow for the better just to get further and not get left behind in the past. Finding some solace in each other's company at a bar, they struggle to see if there's any hope left in either of them.
1. White Gold

Author's Notes: This one took me a while to work out the characters in pre-ZA, especially with Michonne so bear with me. I pieced together bits of her from interviews with Danai and some little details Michonne has dropped in the comics. Sorry for any typos and unfinished thoughts.

Days like this made him feel ill, there were never days like this until now. Rick watched the dashboard when he should have been watching the road. Carl was in the backseat looking outside at the cars that sped past theirs. Everyone was going so fast, going faster than him but it was to be expected, they were on the way to the city. They were headed towards Atlanta, the buildings were getting closer, Rick's hands were beginning to shake. With each turn he took he only used his left hand as he nervously began to tap his knuckles on the dashboard. Carl looked on curiously.

"I like the city," he smiled noticing his father was looking troubled. "Maybe you should ask Mom if you could spend the night."

Rick bit his lower lip and looked at the rearview mirror, placing both hands back on the steering wheel.

"Now Carl—"

"I know I know," groaned his son, he knew he should have kept his lips sealed.

"Carl, things aren't like that anymore."

"Dad I know. I didn't mean you have to sleep in the same bed."

The light turned red, the people walked in front of his car. They were busy on their cellphones, busy with their own lives but he couldn't help noticing that they all just looked like a herd of cows crossing the pasture. Rick rubbed his forehead and forced a weak smile as he turned around and pet Carl's head.

"Things are changing, it ain't all bad. Hell, it could have been a lot worse," it _was_ worse, it _felt_ worse. Rick felt like he was pouring honey over the real truth but he couldn't possibly tell his son how heartbroken he really was about all of this. He would be glad to have seen that marriage counselor, they just couldn't afford it but given the look on Lori's face when she suggested it, it was just a half-assed effort to tell him that it wasn't over when it really was. "Me and your mom are still on speaking terms, shit, most of my friends that have divorced don't even have that. You should be glad."

"Dad I'm not."

"Well," Rick choked back on his tears, "We'll just have to adjust."

A few wrong turns later Rick had finally found Lori's place. She had been living in the suburbs, it was nice little house, not too different than theirs. When he knocked on the door, he started to wonder how she had gotten it in the first place. He saw her silhouette approaching from behind a golden light coming from what he could make out to be the kitchen. The door opened and Rick nervously placed his hand on Carl's head. Carl looked up at him and then his mother, the air immediately grew thick as Lori bat her eyes looking at the both of them. She smiled as she wiped her hands on a towel.

"Carl," she knelt down and embraced him, he coldly returned the hug and walked right in. Both her and Rick awkwardly greeted each other before she led him inside.

"Wow this is a nice place."

"Oh it's isn't mine."

"What?"

"'Yeah. Well," she returned to the kitchen to place the towel on the granite counter and tucked her hands into her pockets. "I house-sit. This place belongs to my uncle, he told me he'd pay me while he was away, I feed the dogs, keep the house clean…you know…boring stuff. He said if I did a good enough job he'd recommend me to other people in this neighborhood. They're all real close-nit so maybe I can save up enough money for a place of my own."

"Lori you know I can help you some? You didn't even have to move out, I could have."

"Rick, hush that's nonsense," she motioned for him to calm down. "I have a stable situation for Carl."

Carl had been looking around the house and stopped dead in his tracks when he heard his parents discussing him like he wasn't in the room with them. He shut his eyes and went on a journey to search for the bathroom, when he passed through several open doors he finally found it. Plush carpets and nicely folded towels, he realized he wasn't in his home, he was in a hotel. He shut the door behind him and locked the door hoping to stop the muffled argument from going on. Sometimes he'd like to pretend it wasn't really happening, that they were just strangers, these people weren't his parents and they weren't talking about him like he was dead weight. His dad had the best intentions; Carl knew that, it was just an endless cycle with them. As he went through the drawers, he found all sorts of ointments and toothpastes and magazines, he thought of the dead end that was his mother's heart. He hated it. Sometimes he found himself hating her, but he could never hate her all the way. Her soft eyes overlooking him as she'd adjust his clothing and stroke his hair, her affections made it confusing, he wasn't sure who to blame anymore.

"Carl, Carl?"

He could hear his father's boots against the wooden floor get closer to his door. He knocked gently. "Yeah dad I'm busy," he muttered as he tried to shut the drawers without making too much noise.

"I'm leaving."

"Why," it just slipped, Carl didn't mean to sound so desperate to keep his father around but his voice cracked and was needy, almost childlike. Carl hated sounding like a kid.

"What's going on," Lori approached Rick looking confused.

"He asked why," Rick ran his hand through his hair, the veins on his forehead looking apparent through his skin.

"You're still wearing the ring. God damnit Rick," she pointed at the white gold wedding ring that glistened in the dim lighting of the hallway. "I don't like you going home alone. Maybe you need to stay."

For that brief moment Rick's eyes looked the brightest she had seen in a long time, it made her heart sink to her very toes. There was hope there, hope for reconciliation. But regretfully there was no hope left in her anymore, she was exhausted but she was also excited at the prospect of a new life. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. She was free to live how she wanted to live, not to be just another housewife miserable in that town, miserable in his arms. There was the strongest love for him, it was very much present but she knew better than him that they just didn't fit the way they should. She stroked his face and smiled.

"Really," his lips quivered.

She was going to have to slowly wean him off, she wanted him to stand on his own two feet, it was the most humane way of handling things. "Yeah Rick. There's enough room for you here _just for the night_,"

"Okay…okay. Did you hear Carl?"

"Yeah. Now go away."

Rick smiled and breezed past Lori with blatant optimism in his walk.

The hours had passed by blissfully, everything felt like it used to. Rick found himself back in familiar territory; they had eaten a dinner cooked by Lori when Carl had kept on begging for pizza the entire time. It was beyond two adults being civil, Rick actually genuinely felt like they were on the same page for once. Words had gotten between them, Rick never did have a way with them regretfully. When he helped wash the dishes he began to get ready for bed. Completing the routine Rick found himself calling Shane when he just couldn't sleep.

"Get out of there Rick, clear your head," Shane's voice sounded so concerned that it was contagious, his once certainty was now shaken. "It's just not going to happen, she'll pull you in and she'll fucking leave you behind like she's done a million times before."

"No…but she told me to stay. Carl wanted me to stay and so did she. We had a great dinner and I think she actually smiled and she smiled at me, Shane. She smiled at _me_, I hadn't seen that smile in such a long time. "

"I gotta tell you somethin' Rick and promise me you won't knock me over the head next time you see me?"

"N-No I'd never do that Shane, you're my best friend, man."

"In these past few years, when I'd see you two together, that smile of hers…I know when things ain't real, and that smile just wasn't cutting it. She was unhappy, it wasn't some new event that smacked you in the face, it was always there, man. If you're saying what I think you're saying and you're saying that that smile felt real—"

"Yeah?"

"She's just happy because she ain't with you anymore."

Rick grew silent. He was in the guest bedroom when he should have been in the master bedroom with Lori. It suddenly all became so obvious, he felt stupid. He could hear Shane on the other side of the line licking his lips anxiously.

"You still have that ring? ….Rick, brother, you still wearing that ring?"

"Y-yeah?"

"You still wearing it?"

"N-no you think I'm stupid," Rick forced a laugh but it didn't fool Shane one bit.

"Take that stupid thing off bud. Just take it off and go out for a drink. Shit if I could go there, I'd join you."

"You'll be there in spirit right?"

"Yeah. Get in that car of yours tomorrow and get back home safe."

"Right. I will. I think I need to work, it's the only thing that takes my mind off of this…mess."

"I'd say something about fish in the sea but I don't want to have you as my competition."

"Shut up."

"Those baby blues of yours will have them falling on their knees."

"We'll just stop it there okay," finally a genuine laugh escaped his lips, Shane felt glad to hear it.

Rick snuck out of his room, the door to the master bedroom was closed and the light was off. He lingered for a few seconds not entirely knowing why. Some part of him hoped the door was open but the better part of him knew it had been closed long ago.

The drive back into the city served some purpose of clearing his mind. The lights of the city kept on reflecting off his ring constantly reminding him that it was still there. Still he drove around with no purpose, only keeping an eye on street lights and one way streets. Eventually he found himself parked in front of a bar, it was the only normal looking bar he could find. It was located at a street corner, a fair amount of cars were parked there and the people standing outside looked friendly enough. He swallowed his pride and got out of his car.

When he sat down there was some cheesy 80s rock song playing loudly on a jukebox. It wasn't recognizable from how distorted it was, he just ordered his drink and kept to himself in a room full of lively conversations. Out of all of them one in particular was the loudest, at his periphery he could see a group of people laughing, all he could make out were business suits of grey and brown.

"Look look, I-I'm telling you…the woman is almost done with her fucking degree and she still don't know the difference between her head and her ass. She's always saying bullshit and I'm the one who has to call her bullshit, because that's who I am."

"Amen," another person concurred.

"And I will continue doing that…until she sees the error of her ways. You can't just pretend like you know it all and expect to learn a thing or two. People need to open their minds and be a hell of a lot nicer because if you ask me, they're going nowhere then. Just wasted potential."

"You can be cruel sometimes Michonne," one of her coworkers slurred. "You're such a bitch."

"Hah a bitch…why because I put people in their place?"

"Yeah, Emily is fucking hot and you're just a jealous bitch."

"I'm her boss, looks have nothing to do with it. Now the day you learn how to handle your liquor, is the day you can call me a bitch."

Some of her coworkers clapped and the others remained silent, almost as if they were agreeing. She sadly sat back and took a swig of her beer. Women in the workplace… they were always called bitches, she mused as she unbuttoned her blazer. Everyone always said it was a bad idea to take out your subordinates but there she was lonely with nothing to do, no one to ask out. She had worked all her life and she saw herself rise up the ladder until her name was on the sign of the firm. There was nothing to show for it except more responsibilities and a bigger paycheck, a month into this good news she realized there wasn't much good in it. It didn't help that they never seemed to take her seriously. Not everyone, but it was the awful people that helped ruin her day.

When the shock blew over, they had begun their own conversations. It was then when she caught sight of a man sitting alone at the bar.

The prospect of meeting someone new sparked something she thought had been lost in her. He didn't look from around there, in fact there was a sadness in his posture. She couldn't imagine why but instead of thinking too far ahead she stood up and left her coworkers arguing about whether Kristen Stewart was a whore or not.

"Hey," she smiled at Rick taking a seat next to him. "You mind if…"

"Oh no its alright," he looked up at her briefly and gestured with his hands.

"Not about me sitting next to you, let me finish. I was going to ask if you minded having a conversation with me?"

He laughed nervously, his blue eyes darting about until they rested on his hands. "Of course not," he took a drink and placed the beer on the counter, it was feeling light.

"Those people are a bunch of idiots. I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to go out with people who I spend practically my whole day with."

"I go out with my friends all the time," Rick forced a smile, but his tired eyes told another story. "M-my coworkers."

"Well where they at?"

"Back at home, I'm a sheriff's deputy and all the guys just like to get together and you know…do what guys do."

"Oh, "her eyes fluttered, "You fight crime? I'm a lawyer."

"Well fuck," Rick chuckled and covered his face, he was getting flushed already, "I've had my fill with lawyers."

"C'mon we're not all bad," she gently nudged him flirtatiously. She was taken aback when she saw his ring finger and leaned her head against her arm with her hand over her mouth trying to conceal her disappointment. Her eyes grew less bright but the idea of going back to her earlier seat didn't seem so great. Instead she continued her conversation. He looked nice, he had an adorable accent, a dark blue buttoned up shirt that only served to bring out his eyes and something else she couldn't quite grasp was making her want to stick around. "What city you live in?"

"Hmm? King County."

"I'm from here…boring right?"

"No, not at all. Sometimes I'd trade in my childhood in the country for being a kid in the city."

"You seen a lot of horses in your days?"

"Drive past them every day."

"Except today right?"

"Nope, drove past some this morning.

"So you haven't been here long. What brings you here?"

Rick paused and licked his lips. "Unfinished business, I guess."

"You have a mistress in the city," Michonne muffled her laughter.

"Mistress? What," Rick's eyes widened.

"I'm just kidding," she pointed at his ring finger with her expressive eyes looking large and dark brown, Rick found himself feeling enamored of them. "You're married."

"N-No. I thought my comment about lawyers was me being obvious. I guess not. No. I'm not married, I just can't seem to take it off. It's a habit of mine."

"Marriage is a _nasty _habit."

"Yeah. I don't know. Well, it was nice while it lasted."

"You should stop wearing that or else some girls won't want to kiss you then…then again some might."

"Girls kissing me? Hell, they've never wanted to before."

"Hmm," she flashed him sultry eyes and looked away with a wide smile on her soft full lips. Rick almost caught on to her mischievous look; she was so mysterious to him. He couldn't quite get a grasp on her. Her fingertips traced paths across the smooth counter suggestively, sending Rick thoughts that weren't entirely clean. "I miss the little things you know. Being alone isn't always so great," she stared off but then quickly zoned back when the bartender walked by. "Two more of these, thanks," she handed him money, and he handed her two beers, one which Michonne slid Rick's way. Rick caught it and smiled at her. "I miss the thrill and the affection."

"I miss stealing kisses," Rick cut in, "or waking up in the middle of the night thinking it was all a dream or something. But when I get up off my ass and look in the mirror, there's a tint of lipstick on my lips." He ran his thumb across his lip and shut his eyes in an attempt to seal the wound. Michonne caught on quickly and reassuringly rubbed her shoulder against his before she leaned into his ear.

"You're out of luck then. I'm just wearing chapstick."

The corner of his lip turned upwards, his eyes still remained closed as his hands were firmly wrapped around his beer bottle. Michonne rested her chin on his shoulder briefly forgetting physical boundaries. "Who on earth would want to leave someone like you," her voice sounded like rough sandpaper but it wasn't all that bad.

"I'm not a victim."

"Never said that."

"I'm just awful at opening my mouth. I was lucky, real lucky to have gotten her, it's just when I got her…I didn't know what to do next."

"You fuck that's what you do," giggled Michonne, he looked at her in surprise. She covered her mouth in apology and realized it was time she should sober up a little. "I get you. You don't know what you do so you just rise up the ranks in work right? You're pretty high up there is that right?"

"Work was how I got away from it all."

"Good for you then." There was that look again on Rick's face, this time it confused her. "Did I say something wrong again?"

"N-No," he shook his head side to side and undid a button on his shirt. "I'm just not used to hearing someone say that."

"Why? Work isn't all that bad. At least you were doing something, I work to keep my mind off things"

"Yeah."

Michonne bit her lips as if she were trying to hold something back, instead she went off on another tangent. "And if it's not work that I do, I like to sit on my bed and play my guitar."

"Oh you play?"

"Used to be in a riot girl band when I was in college."

"Riot girl?"

"Ah yeah you know like Sleater-Kinney, Bikini Kill, women's rights and shit. It was a great scene you know," out of habit she took another drink out of her beer. "I felt like I was really doing something, but there were bad crowds and little by little we started switching out band members until everyone just got a job or decided to study more. We didn't necessarily make it big."

"I've never heard," Rick suddenly felt a little insecure that he wasn't so worldly.

"What girl didn't want to be a rock star? Most girls are split in two; they are either born wanting to kiss the rock star or born wanting to become them, I think I was born being both," her eyes stared off, the whites of them turning a light pink but there was a glazed look in them. They were so deep and beautiful, Rick felt himself getting sucked in. She kept on talking but he found it hard to keep track of what exactly she was saying, his eyes traveled from her eyes, to her nose, to her lips. She was stunning, he was surprised he couldn't catch this from his peripheries, or why he was too scared to look at her straight in the eyes. "All my boyfriends would at some point call me a male hating feminist. Feminism has nothing to do with hating men, it's about human rights," she turned to him just to realize he wasn't all there. "We're all on the same boat."

"Oh yeah yeah," Rick blinked quickly and licked his lips, returning back to his present state.

"Your marriage going to shit…I really doubt it was _all_ your fault."

"You don't know that," somberly Rick lowered his head and rubbed his eyes.

"Hey," she smiled, "You want to get out of here?"

"And go where?"

"Anywhere."

"I don't know this city very well."

"Doesn't matter."

Rick wasn't quite grasping what she was trying to say. By then Michonne had already decided that even if everything he was feeding her was absolute bullshit, that he really was a married man, she just didn't care. She was already taken by him even if it was just for moment.

"I'm alright being here," spoke Rick looking the other way at the jukebox where two of Michonne's coworkers had begun to drunkenly wrestle. Michonne watched him looking confused, she wasn't sure if he wasn't getting it or if she had read him all wrong. She had her A game on, by now he should have said yes. He should have been saying yes a billion times. Then she concluded it must have been a self esteem thing, he just didn't seem aware of how good looking he was.

"No you're not," she flashed him her bedroom eyes as she stroked his forearm. He turned back towards her with a dumbfounded look on his pretty face, then looked down at her soft hand. Her eyes were knowing, she licked her lips and leaned towards his. The contact sent a rush of sensations down his spine, nothing was familiar about her and he took a liking to it. He gasped when she broke the kiss, he missed her flesh and she lit a desire in him for more. The look on her face drove him mad, she was so aware of the effect she had on him, so confident. Rick chuckled in disbelief; there was a light finally behind his eyes.

"You get me now," she cooed as she climbed off the stool, holding onto her messenger bag. She offered Rick her hand and for the first time in a long time Rick felt he may have had a future after all of this mess. They both walked hand in hand through an already open door, the cold air rushing in.

"What are we fucking doing? I never even asked your name," Rick laughed as they stood underneath a streetlight. Michonne kicked one foot and then another and adjusted her skirt.

"I can't handle being on my feet for too long."

"What's your name," Rick pressed on, the laugh fading from his broken voice.

"Ah well," her cheeks looked flushed as she brushed her hair aside. She cocked one eyebrow and lifted her gaze to his. She tried to think of a made up name but her tongue slipped ahead of her brain, "Uh…. The name's Michonne."

_Shit. _


	2. The Ripple Effect

Author's Notes: hey I'm glad I got some reviews, you guys are great. Here's chapter 2, let's hope you dig the soap opera-like theatrics. Watch out for a sex scene and some cussing.

* * *

The longing for affection was overpowering for Rick, it didn't matter that they were in a public place there was little reserve left in him. Michonne ordered a coke so he ordered a coke, he didn't really care. He didn't notice her cold demeanor, her far off gaze. He was so enamored of her that he almost forgot to see she was right there in front of him expressing something else entirely than what she had just expressed a few seconds ago. Her lips were held tight, her shoulders stiff. There were words in her mouth, her lips on the brink of opening.

He had sat close next to her, that post coital gaze still present in his eyes. It made her uncomfortable, she shifted and uncrossed her legs as she looked at the menu. He was awful shy about it but the air was still thick, she still felt somewhat ashamed for not telling him early on what this was all about. She had forgotten to tell him her code of ethics; she had forgotten a lot of things around him. It was all happening so quickly, it was such a blissful rush, and it made her all the more uneasy.

"What are you thinking about getting," she asked hoping the impending conversation could go all away with the mention of food.

"Uh I'm not all that hungry," he smiled awkwardly, tracing circles on the table. It appeared that whenever she'd try to make eye contact before, he'd play hard to get but now his eyes were darting about. She tried her hardest not to smile back, to not notice her now sweaty palms as she fumbled with the menu in her hands. This was it, she was going to eventually have to tell him. She didn't entirely understand why she suggested that they get burgers afterwards when she should have just broken it off right there and then. The night still felt too short she guessed.

"Get something, I'll feel weird eating by myself."

"I'll have whatever you're having then," he leaned in and buried his head in her shoulder, his breath tickling her collarbone. The same longing she had felt earlier was reignited yet again; she just stayed there frozen in anticipation of what he'd do next. She wanted it to happen, desperately. Sliding up her thigh was his hand, the path it took drove her up the wall without her pantyhose in the way. They had been ripped and torn and were carelessly thrown in some trashcan along the way to the diner place. She suddenly hit her elbow against the table and pushed him off, her eyes wide, her brow furrowed.

"No. God damn it, Rick."

"I ah-I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," he looked at her hurt and confused with both his hands now on the table. When putting it all into perspective, he felt like a horny teenager again, it had been a long time since he had met someone new. Somehow it had all been forgotten; remembering it all over again was all the more frightening. "I'm not that type of guy."

"No, it's alright," she lowered her head. The waitress came by with their drinks looking on at their expressions curiously.

"Here, two cokes. Ready to make your order," she weakly smiled. Her eyes were a bright blue, her hair a dirty blonde, she was painfully pretty, Michonne wondered what she was doing working at a place like this. The man at the counter was obviously looking at her ass, his hair greasy, his arms and chest were disgustingly hairy. His shirt more opened than it should be causing her to feel alarmed about how much hair would end up in her food but despite this she still ordered, flashing the girl a little bit of a smile hoping that maybe it would make her day a little better. She could sympathize with her, in college she found herself in the same situation.

"I'll have a burger, you can put everything on it, all the condiments….whatever," cradling her head Michonne chuckled to herself, "Hell—put in extra fries too."

The girl laughed as she jotted down her order and then turned to Rick. Rick was looking at Michonne and looked startled that it was his turn so soon. "Uhh what did she order again?"

"A burger with everything on it and hell—put in extra fries too," the waitress looked back at Michonne who started laughing too. Rick looked at the both of them bewildered, not catching the humor of their joke. He laughed and shook his head.

"Yeah I'll have that too," he turned back to Michonne for approval and she looked at him, her laugh fading.

The waitress left with a nod. Now it was Michonne staring at Rick as he tried to get his straw out of its wrapper. "What did you think of her?"

He shrugged and started drinking out of his glass, a pink pout around his straw. Fleetingly she thought of kissing him again, crushing her lips against his. It sounded like a good idea at the time, but another part of her wouldn't allow her to have the liberty of doing it. He swallowed his drink and cringed from how cold and fizzy it was. "She was an alright girl. A little young, she should be in school." Now the longing grew stronger in her, it made her stomach feel upset and her muscles tense.

"You know," she nudged him, "You're not that type of guy. Not at all."

"I'm a nice guy right," he sounded almost disappointed in himself.

"Well yeah—"

"You saying I'm boring," he asked bluntly.

"No. Well. I don't think so. I'm still here aren't I," she flashed him huge eyes. "Is that something your wife would say? S-sorry I mean ex-wife?"

Rick grew silent, taking a long drink out of his soda meanwhile Michonne hadn't even touched hers. "Yeah."

"I shouldn't have even asked."

"She didn't say it upfront, but I knew she was thinking it."

"Damn I could use another beer."

Rick smiled widely, briefly looking at her then looking away. The place was pretty busy, it was full of hungry people either about to hit the bars, or people feeling the aftermath of hitting those bars. A lot of heads flat against tables, but still everything seemed to be in a constant state of movement, in stark contrast they felt frozen in time. It grew silent between the two of them but it felt alright, he didn't need to fill the air with conversation; they were just there, existing. He did enjoy her company, he wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe it was loneliness, maybe he was in love with the mystery of her, or the mystery of the city. The hole he felt earlier felt full, or at least he had forgotten there was a hole there in the first place. He knew he should have kept his cool, that he should have known that this was it. There was the possibility that he could never see her again, and he hated it. He wanted to have every bit of her again, maybe the second time around he could take his time, but the idea of not having that opportunity killed him.

How did Shane do sort of thing? How could he disconnect from it, now it was getting plain to see why she was acting the way she was. She wanted to shake him off. He was every bit as clingy as Lori had said, he wasn't cut out for this. Dates, dinner, what they were doing now, that was where he felt at his most comfortable, he wanted to wait a couple of days, or hell—a couple of hours just to see if she was still thinking about him. He wanted to nervously ask if there would ever be an again just so he could anticipate the next time he'd see her. So he could think of having her, of kissing her, of having sex with her eventually. They had already reached that point within half an hour, or even less. What now?

He wanted to be cut loose, he just wanted her to say it already so he could get over it quicker.

"I just went through a divorce. It might sound insensitive but at least you weren't cheated on and at least you're still talking..."

Rick looked at her in disbelief, the waitress returned and gave them each their plate.

"I go to work and get shit on, I should be happy. People should be happy for me but I'm not. It's stifling in there, there's no room, no clean air. I feel like I'm surviving through it all, like it's one big struggle day…after day after day…"

"Y-you want anything else. Is everything alright," asked the waitress, her eyes wide.

"No we're doing great," Rick smiled and waved her off as politely as he could.

"My kids aren't with me. I miss them, my husband made a case of my anger issues…about the fact that I set his escalade on fire…but Rick, you're a nice guy. You really are, even if you hate it. But me, I'm awful, I deserved everything that came to me so go fucking live your life, stop dwelling on it. Stop hurting, you two were just two puzzle pieces that just didn't fit, it's alright. You have kids?"

"I have a son, yeah. His name is Carl."

"You dropped him off? Is that why you're here?"

"Yeah."

"When are you seeing him again?"

"Every other week."

"Then that's something to look forward to isn't it."

"Look Michonne—no one deserves to be cheated on."

Michonne shut her eyes and took a bite out of a burger, savoring every single tastebud awakening in the process. She swallowed and placed it back on the plate, wiping the excess mayo off of her lips. "Maybe not but neither do you. You shouldn't waste your time on me, after this, this is it. You can have this moment if you will, this is probably the last memory you'll have of me. I'm really good at first impressions, or really bad. It's best left up to you to make that opinion." Her hands shook when she said those fatal words severing any hopes left of a reconnection. When she looked him dead in his eyes, he made her wish she hadn't. She dropped her head and continued eating.

He shook his head, the corner of his eye twitched and without a word he started to eat his own burger as well.

The last few moments they had together felt agonizingly awkward, maybe she spoke too soon, now there was no hope for idle conversation. Michonne kept on looking at Rick for any expression, anything but he stayed silent, keeping to himself, his face made of stone. She killed it, she butchered it just so she couldn't get hurt but she had forgotten it was all the same. Rick finished his burger before her, he wiped his mouth and stood up, pulling out his wallet and leaving some money on the table. "I don't care what you say. You're wrong."

"What," Michonne blubbered with her mouth full and her eyes glazed with sorrow.

He walked to the counter at the very front of the diner and walked back with a pen in hand, he grabbed her hand and was disgusted by how it was covered in a disgusting color mixture of the condiments that oozed out of her burger. Instead he let her have her hand back and wrote his number on a napkin.

"Call me if you want."

"Don't expect me to," she groaned childishly.

"You're being stupid. I want to see you again."

"Stupid…what?"

"You know I don't mean it that way. I-I'm awful with fucking words. I just think…you should call me."

"It was just sex Rick."

"If it was just sex why do you still keep on calling me by my name? If I'm just a thing to you, you wouldn't even remember my name. You felt something, just admit it. Just give me another chance."

"You think you're the first person to say the same thing?"

"I don't care what you say now. You're still drunk. You're the most beautiful, sad woman I've ever seen and I'm so interested in you, you don't even know. Why am I even explaining myself? Just call my stupid fucking cell phone," he stormed off with his hands in the air and like that he left Michonne speechless.

* * *

The sun was already peeking from the clouds by the time Rick made it back. Being the good citizen that he was he caught a taxi back home and left his car behind. He didn't want to think so much about the cab fare so he threw the money at the man hoping that it was enough. No curses came out of the taxi which may have worried him further considering he could have left him his life savings by accident. He shook his head and dropped the thought as he approached the door. Thankfully Lori had left him a key and he fumbled through his pockets hoping to find it. He gasped as he felt through every pocket then he found it in the furthest corner of his jean jacket. He breathed out a sigh of relief when it slipped in and unlocked the door. Opening it slowly he crept in and took off his boots at the entrance. No lights were left on except for the kitchen, he walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out an orange juice. For a while he contemplated whether or not he should drink out of it, he eventually decided against it and started opening up cabinets until he found a glass.

When the floor stopped spinning a bit, he realized he was sobering up, god knows how much of a light weight he was, it was embarrassing. He ran his finger around the cold edge of the glass, his thoughts going back to the woman he met at the bar. He blew it. Then again it probably wouldn't have ended in his favor in the first place. This time he didn't want to move too fast, the consequences of that was just doors away from him. He took a drink out of the glass, the juice was too bitter for his taste, everything tasted different but then again he should have known that.

"Rick where were you," Lori's voice came from behind him. He jumped and turned to her.

"Wh-what?"

"I heard you leave, the alarm makes a beep every time someone opens a window or closes the door. I was worried it was Carl, but I found him sound asleep but your room was empty."

Rick closed his eyes, they were feeling dry and strained. "Why wasn't I in that bed with you Lori," he asked feeling stupid the words even came out of his mouth. He felt helpless without her, that outing, that short lived victory only served to prove him right.

"I-I don't know what to say," Lori covered her mouth. "Anything I'll say will hurt you and I've done more than enough as it is. "

"Am I not good enough for you because I can prove you I am," he pled.

"Rick you were too good, damnit. Too good," her voice trembled, grief plain on her face.

Rick looked at her like a deer caught in headlights, he walked away knowing the damage he had done. He wanted answers, he always wanted answers but he knew to get them he'd have to wear her down until she had no strength at all. It was killing her. He loved her too much to know when it was time to go. Before he left he looked down the hall to see the room where Carl was sleeping, he decided to go take one last look at him. Carl was sound asleep thankfully, it was easier this way. Rick turned around to see Lori there right in front of him both hands held up in front of her trying to stop him.

"No. Don't go. Not like this."

Rick bit his lip and his eyes were red and puffy, there wasn't any moisture left for any tears. The air made them burn worse as he attempted to cry, everything was just spinning out of control and if there were a climax to his misery this was it. This very moment was it. He had to leave Lori and Carl behind and pretend he was just okay with it, but he couldn't convince the muscles in his face to stay in place. They twisted into something he had been hiding for so long inside, he was falling apart, he couldn't hold it together, he was losing his mind. Up til now they were everything but he thought by staying far away, and handling them with gloves, they would stay better intact. But fear was what did the very opposite, Lori held him by the shoulders as he covered his face with his hands. Gently she moved his hands off his face and she stared at him with so much sympathy in her eyes, round and beautiful despite all this anguish. Her eyelashes fluttered, they always did that in a situation like this, he knew her so well. He loved every bit of her, the child in him wished he could throw enough of a fit to stay but he attempted to compose himself. She blinked wildly again and stroked his face when he was trying to pull away.

"I—I gotta go. Gotta go to work," Rick drunkenly blubbered, spit dribbling out of his lips.

"I can smell the alcohol in your breath. Just stay. We can talk. I'm ready."

"Mmm no," he moved away from Carl's room and nearly tripped over the leg of a table and hit the wall. He stumbled and rubbed his head. "Fuck."

"You need to just stay in one place," she led him to the couch.

"I think I just need to sleep."

"Yeah you do," Lori smiled, examining if he had a bump on his head. The strokes grew longer until she was running her hands through his hair. "You need to get a haircut." Her hands returned to his shoulders as she pushed him down on the sofa, climbing on top of him. Rick struggled to catch his breath as she kissed him, her legs trying to coil into his, her soft foot rubbing up against the one exposed area of his ankle from his jeans riding up.

"W-What are you doing," Rick managed to say, his face flushed as he struggled to sit up.

Lori stopped what she was doing and covered her face looking ashamed of herself. "I'm sorry," she groaned and climbed off of him. "I—ah I'm just as confused as you are. I'm so lonely."

"I slept with a woman just to forget about you," the words just slipped out of his lips. In shock, Lori looked at him, her eyes wider than ever. He managed to find his footing and walked away from her, his hand on his lips. It hurt having to be the adult; they weren't 20 year olds anymore. They were never going to be over but this didn't feel right, he shouldn't have said what he said but it put a direct stop to it. She had to know the hold on him she had, she was the reason why he wanted to change. He wanted something new, because the old drove a dagger straight through his heart.

Carl sat awake in his bed, he had been frightened out of his sleep. Rick had left the door half open and he had seen it all, more than what he would have liked to see. His parents were idiots; it was as simple as that. He could hear his mother loudly sobbing in living room. It echoed through the entire house, it echoed through his head, it kept going to the point that he wasn't sure if it she was still crying or she had stopped and it was just repeating in his brain.

* * *

The shrill noise of the alarm woke Michonne up from her bed. Feeling ill, hungover and dehydrated she shot up and slammed her hand on the snooze button. Five in the morning already, from that moment on she regretted even going out in the first place. It was Saturday, she had no plans to go to the office, even to sort out the paperwork that was on her table. She didn't even have the urge to look over the case files she took home with her. Despite this foul mood she got up off the bed, splashed water on her face and changed into her gym clothes. She told herself that after drinking that bottle of water and getting a good workout she'd get a coffee. That's what kept her feet walking one step in front of the other.

When she got to the gym she greeted the man sitting at the front desk, he flashed her a massive smile and pulled her in for a hug, she pat his back.

"Hey you're back," she attempted to smile back, her eyes puffy and her lips chapped.

"Mhmm yeah. Didn't win though."

"Doesn't matter," her hands slid up his arm and gave his bicep a firm squeeze, "You did great, you got as far as you did."

"I guess," he messed with his bleached blond hair and moved it out of his eyes.

"You wash the oil off."

"Duh. I took a shower afterwards. A shower of defeat."

Michonne sighed and rested her arms against the desk. "Many people come in today?"

"A couple of people signed up for memberships…but not at record numbers or anything."

"Better than nothing."

"You keep saying that," he looked at her concerned and pat her head, a gesture that made her almost want to growl at him. "Drink too much?"

"I fucked up. Well…got fucked up and yes I drank too much."

"And?"

"Slept with a guy."

"Good for you, was it me?"

"Good one. No. He was this real pretty guy with a southern accent."

"White supremacist?"

"Another good one," she playfully shoved him. "No. He was great, really. I felt bad for him. "

"You have his number?"

"Yeah after he told me to fuck off."

"He did?"

"Well for the record I told him to fuck off first."

"Oh," he returned to his paperwork, scribbling on the piece of paper. "It's always the same thing with you isn't it."

"No. Well—not this time. I think I really liked him and I got scared."

"That's understandable, was he good at least?"

"At what," her eye widened. Her friend remained silent, his eyes downcast, a smile at the corner of his lips, a dimple in his cheek. "Damnit Chaz."

"What else?"

"Oh right," her mind wasn't in the gutter for once, she felt really out of place now. "What else could he do? We did it in an alley."

"Judging by that smile on your face it was great."

"Not that great, it was alright" the smile couldn't seem to go away so she bashfully covered her face to hide her flushed cheeks. "I came," she lowered her voice and looked at some people walking in with narrowed eyes. "That's the whole point isn't it?"

"But back to what I asked earlier…you got his number. That's a change."

"What are you implying?"

"You're a hit it and quit it sort of gal am I right? Nothing wrong with that but it's how you usually roll. So what was different about him?"

"I'm not calling him back."

"That's what you say now."

"I didn't use a condom, that was the stupid thing I did…and then I actually told him my real name. I even opened up to him but he was obviously stupid too. He didn't even **ask** to use a condom, he just went for it."

"You're right, that is stupid, what the hell were you thinking?"

"What's scary is that I wasn't thinking—I wasn't thinking at all."

The sound of metal against metal vibrated throughout the entire space. Michonne never felt closer to home than at the gym, the smell of sweat and plastic. Her heart thumped in her chest, as she controlled her breathing with each rep. The adrenaline coursing through her veins, her muscles stretched but tired, she wondered if she could push herself hard enough. Her bones vibrated, her lips quivered. She thought back on that night, her lips firmly pressed against his. He hesitated for a second, he didn't kiss back at first, he just looked at her in surprise. She could never imagine a man looking more innocent than he did at that moment, it drove her crazy with want. Did men like him exist before she met him? She froze for a second too, her lips dreading the distance even if his lips were millimeters away. Those seconds seem to last forever, the anticipation, blood pooling in her cheeks and elsewhere. And suddenly the courage took over him and he kissed her back, pulling her as close as possible. In a rush their hands felt every crevice, every imaginable place they could think of. Michonne could only remember it barely, his hands shaking as he cupped her breasts. Was he scared or did he really want her that much, she wasn't sure, it could have been a mixture of the both. They moved quickly, his hand on her inner thigh, her skirt riding up. She wanted him so badly, she wanted the thrill to go even further, it was just building up at the pit of her stomach. His growing bulge rubbed against her pelvis, she pushed his head to the side and kissed his neck as he watched the shadows of people pass by unbeknownst of what they were doing. His eyes shut and his lips parted in ecstasy, he hooked his nails in her pantyhose and tore them at the crotch, apologizing even though she had asked him to do it. She mused how this was any different, her hands undoing his belt and lifting his shirt just enough to run her hands up and down his stomach before eventually going downwards.

Michonne licked her lips and put down the weights, sweat dripping down her brow. She wiped her forehead and looked at Chaz watching her from a distance. He had known her long enough to know something was up. Something in her had changed and she just wasn't ready to accept it. The truth was a bitter pill to swallow.

She wanted Rick's hand back between her legs, he was so gentle and amorous. She wanted to demand him to give her what she wanted, to push her up against the wall as her leg wrapped firmly around him like they had done this before. One of his hands on her bottom, the other on her calf as he thrust, and thrust again, a heavy, raspy breath in her ear every time. He went in deep, as deep as he possibly could, and Michonne wasn't even thinking about the sex at the time, she was thinking that they were so intimate, like old lovers. It was like something she had wanted all along, something she couldn't fathom existing. The entire time her eyes should have been shut or on him, but she stared at the stained pavement and her nude colored heel struggling to stay up. His back muscles flexed with each movement as she squeezed them; she felt satisfied that he wasn't as frail as she thought he was. Everything about him felt perfect or at least she was closer to the sun than she had ever been for a while. Her head fell back and he kissed her as she struggled to breathe normally. When she came, she dropped her leg and nearly stumbled backwards and he rushed to hold her up, his hands cupping her face. She couldn't remember what he said or how he said it but he muttered something, something that moved her. He couldn't possibly be talking about her. Why her? A scenario passed through her head, she wanted to hear him talking about his life. She wanted to hear all his stupid stories. She wanted to go home and find him there waiting for her, anxiously anticipating her bitching about her day. Tears formed in her eyes then and now. At first she thought maybe it was the alcohol that made her think of him so much as she laid in bed that night but it wasn't, he was still there, the ghost of person she didn't quite know. In all the days she had lived alone it was that night that she realized how unoccupied her bed really was and that thought followed her for the remainder of the day. Each exercise after another she kept on losing track of her reps until she finally gave up. She was too scared to admit it was his doing so instead she blamed the alcohol again.


	3. In Limbo

Author's Note: Again I took forever with this story. I spent a lot reflecting back on it, I guess I kept on second guessing myself about the impact just an encounter between two people could have. At first it seems a little crazy, I don't want to make this story real cliche, I want it to feel realistic to some extent but I do believe in fate. One small instant can trigger a slew of events, these people are growing and trying to become a fully functioning part of society but in the process lose a bit of themselves by acting the part of adults. So some part of them has to act out in all this chaos, hence the melodrama. Well back to this… sorry if there's any typos or anything. Enjoy!

* * *

"I'm sorry to have bothered you really," Lori sat at the edge of the sofa looking at a disgruntled Shane pacing back and forth. He ran his hands through his hair and let out a loud sigh.

"This is awkward you know," he grunted, his voice hoarse and jittery.

"Why? Being in a room with me? We can still be on speaking terms, you know. You're one of my closest friends. I thought I divorced Rick, not you."

"What do you expect me to say? I got out of work just for him and the man ain't even awake yet?"

"He didn't bring his car with him. I don't even know how he got home. Maybe that woman brought him…"

"Woman?"

"Yes. Woman."

"Well shit I didn't think he had it in him."

Looking bothered by the direction the conversation was going in, Lori covered her face and walked away from him and into the hall. "I get it. You hate me."

"It's kind of hard not to. I want the boy to move on and you sure as hell caused him some mental damage," he hissed bluntly digging the knife deeper into her side. She could see his canines flashing every now and then as he spoke, it worried her. Just a year ago he was once a confidant of hers, a good friend, he wasn't just her husband's or so she thought. Despite being hurt by this change in attitude she understood, she knew he only heard Rick's side of the story and she accepted the fact that she didn't have the will or the energy to justify her actions. He was just another wall for her to talk to. "Look, Lori," his deep brown eyes looked straight into hers like pools of sorrow, suddenly making her change her mind. "I don't hate you," he rubbed her shoulder reassuringly. "I get angry—at the situation. Just let him go, it'll do the both of you a world of good."

"Yeah," she looked away and rubbed her watery eyes. "It's just hard," she lifted her head to meet Shane's gaze, he looked stiff and uncomfortable with giving her affection or kind words but she couldn't think of anyone else she could confide in. "I'm sorry I'm telling you this. I feel so many things at once but the guilt kills me, I feel so ashamed half the times especially when he's looking straight into me like a wounded puppy. He's a grown man, it upsets me, he should stand on his own two feet. "

"You feel angry at Rick then," Shane shook his head in disbelief and ran his hand through his wavy jet black hair. "Shit. You're cold."

"No it's not easy to be angry at him, he's too kind so I turn it inwards, I turn it on myself and i-it's like this tumor in me, Shane."

"Now why you gotta be telling me all this?"

"Cause I have no one else to tell," she gestured her hands in the air, her arms looking frail and thin, she looked scarily thin in her oversized gray sweater. "You hear the things all my friends say back in that town. They either treat me like I'm some whore, or some broken ungrateful woman. I'm neither. I didn't cheat on Rick and I'm not regretful of the time we spent together."

"I know…but you know people. They can't find a reason so they gotta make up their own, I know that much."

"—And I didn't want to hurt him, that was never my intention," her hand rested firmly on her chest, her lower lip quivering. "But still I want him, I'm not sure if I'm in love with the routine or I really didn't want to leave him. I just don't know."

"I ain't no psychiatrist Lori, but you're mixed up and you've got him mixed up, simple as that."

Lori remained silent as she turned away from him, moving out of his way as he walked to the room Rick occupied. "Hey bud," she heard him murmur lovingly from the inside.

Rick and Shane sat in the car in complete silence. There was obvious tension, Rick was already expecting a stern talking to from his best friend but so far he got nothing. He could clearly see something was bothering Shane, he kept on rubbing his forehead nervously. "I'm worried about you," he finally spoke. Rick licked his dry lips and his eyes widened with some sort of prepared excuse ready on his lips. "Give me that fucking ring."

"W-what?"

It was still there on his finger, Rick had sworn he had forgotten it was there in the first place.

"The paperwork went through, everything worked out in both your favors, just leave it at that. Shit Rick. I know you two had to have fucked around; I saw the look on her face…and now the look on your face. Lori's acting like she fucking cheated on you with you."

"I-it wasn't like that."

Shane suddenly made a grab for Rick's ring and pulled it off and put it in his pocket. "You two seem to forget you have a son for god's sake…acting like children. You're making me feel mature."

"Why are you so upset, it's none of your business," Rick snapped, he then looked at his rearview mirror to see Carl exiting the house and walking towards the car.

"Because I gave you advice that you didn't follow and I don't like being in the fucking middle," sneered Shane before his face did a 360 when he greeted Carl. "Hey little man."

"Hey," Carl groaned noticeably with a chip on his shoulder.

"You don't know the whole story," Rick continued, his eyes looking sincere. "I did what you said and it was alright."

"Hmph alright," his friend scoffed, a smile on his face, quickly accepting this as some sort of apology.

"It was great for a second."

"What the hell are you two talking about," Carl cut in.

"Damnit don't fucking cuss," cursed Shane sternly looking at Carl through the rearview window. Trying to suppress his laughter, Rick choked. Eventually the three of them burst into laughter. "You know Carl…you should be awful ashamed of your father," Shane turned on the car and pulled out of the driveway.

"Hmm why?"

Rick looked at the two of them alarmed. Shane was a well of memories that Rick never wanted to be brought up and certainly none of them should be brought up in front of his son. Their relationship was already shaken up enough as it is, for some reason Rick held onto the unrealistic notion that he wanted to be his son's hero.

"He's such a lightweight. Always been. I remember the first time he took a swig of beer, now don't tell your mom this, this was before her time. He lost his legs so fast, probably by the second or third beer, he was an embarrassment to his own masculinity."

"Is that why we're looking for the car?"

"Well, your dad was smart there. He was smart enough to know he couldn't drive no car, he'd probably end up in a ditch or something."

"Don't even joke," Rick cut in.

"It's not all bad though Carl. If it hadn't been for some…ahem…liquid encouragement, your daddy wouldn't have been able to approach your mommy."

"Who cares."

"You sure as hell should. Divorced or not, they made your ungrateful little ass."

"Cool it," Rick laughed and Carl looked confused.

"You talking about sex," the child chimed in.

"No," Interrupted Rick, covering his laughter. "Well maybe."

"Yes we are bud but that whole conversation is reserved for another time and date, you alright with that," said Shane.

Wrinkling his nose Carl shook his head side to side, "Yuck no. I don't need to know."

"That's what you say now, just give it a couple more years…or at least until you come across a picture of beyonce."

"You don't even listen to her music," cursed Rick, but neither did he though.

"Don't have to," laughed Shane, a sly tone in his voice.

"She is really pretty," Carl nodded. The two men grew silent and nodded in mutual agreement along with him.

* * *

"Yeah I'll have a tall coffee, two creams, two sugars," finally it was time for that coffee, but then again she didn't give it all she could back at the gym, she wasn't sure whether or not she deserved it. Walking over to the side she noticed there were less crowds during the weekends, people were probably at home tucked into their beds. Desperately she wished for the same thing. Dozy Saturdays were like a dream for her, a dream she rarely indulged in. It was either work, drinking or the gym, never anything in between.

"Here you go," the worker handed the coffee to her over the counter with a fake smile on their face. They looked dead inside, the man was wearing a mask like she was, the light behind their eyes was dim.

The door opened behind her and a man and a child seemed to be lost in conversation. "I just need a bit of coffee is all, it'll be a quick in and out."

"Fine but can I get a muffin," the child answered.

"I don't know, we'll see…, "he paused, his voice familiar, "you know what, yeah."

"Okay, I don't know what I want."

"Just make up your mind, son."

Michonne turned slightly to get a look at the two as she made her way to one of the tables. She would have liked a muffin too, but before the whole thought had been processed she recognized the man. For a second she prayed he hadn't noticed her but he did almost immediately. His hand had been cradling his head but it moved off and lingered in mid-air as if contemplating whether or not he should wave. She wished that he wouldn't.

Then he did, he waved. She felt her heart sink all the way to her toes; a smile couldn't even form on her lips. Instead of acknowledging him she stared at him strangely, a defense mechanism she had perfected after years of practice. His child looked straight at her, his bright blue eyes just like his father's were looking over her. The gears were turning in his head; he was trying to connect the dots, trying to figure out why his father was waving at the stranger. It took her a while to realize that the stranger was her. A noise came out of her mouth and Rick motioned for her to wait a second so he could make his order. Still she didn't nod, she just looked over his son again feeling the guilt rush in. He was wearing a flannel shirt and a pair of jeans, overly formal for a child…almost like a smaller version of his father.

What were the odds she'd bump into him there of all places, this was a big city full of people? Why now at the worst of times? What now? Fight or flight? She bit her lip and gave in to her fears; she walked out the store and got into the false comfort of her car.

After putting on her seatbelt and lingering with her hands tightly gripping the steering wheel, her eyes were drawn back to the coffee shop. There was Rick waiting patiently for his order, every now and then leaning his head down to talk to his kid. He was wearing the same thing he was the night before, her eyes traveled up and down him remembering things. The little details she took in were coming back to her one at a time, he was a such a handsome thing. No doubt she had seen guys like that but they seemed far too self-aware, too confident even if they were faking it. He was as genuine She wondered how long it would take to notice she was gone and a while did pass. By then she was hoping he had forgotten, he must have had a lot on his mind. She began to feel relieved and maybe a little saddened at the thought of his memory of her escaping him.

He lifted his head and looked around searching for her, his body language exuding sorrow yet again. She got what she wanted. Just seconds ago he had been standing up straight but from then on he stood like a weight had been pulling down his limbs. She couldn't stand it any longer, the conflicting feelings were overwhelming. After taking an impromptu drink out of her coffee she shouted from the scalding liquid burning her tongue, and sped away barely missing the bumper of another car.

"Who was she?"

"What," Rick sighed and sat down at the table, gesturing for Carl to sit across from him. Carl got settled, carefully holding the ceramic plate his muffin rested on, his eyes wide and curious. "Oh I thought she was someone I knew."

"She looked like she knew you too."

"I guess she didn't," for a second he doubted himself, maybe it really wasn't her. In fact he felt a bit foolish when he figured out the odds of bumping into a random person twice within a few hours in a city like that. Then again his instincts told him otherwise, it was her, she just wasn't too happy to see him not that he could blame her after making a fool of himself. It was all coming down at him at once, the utter embarrassment and he remembered every heartbreaking bit of it.

"She was pretty."

"Yeah she was wasn't she," Rick leaned his chin against his hand and looked outside.

"You should go with someone like that."

"Carl," for some reason Rick couldn't handle hearing it coming from his own son's mouth. Eventually he would move on, it made absolute sense but to Rick coming to terms with the current state of reality was hard enough.

"What? I'm being realistic here. I know you and mom aren't going to work it out. I probably knew before the two of you did."

"I guess that's true." Eventually he'd grow lonely, unbearably so. He'd have to walk out that front door, socialize at a bar, be set up on blind dates…all that stuff, he felt too old for it all. No one could measure up, he knew that much. It would be a long time before he could feel the familiarity that he once felt with Lori and that first impression Michonne made couldn't be rivaled either. Strange, he still remembered her name, he probably still had it on his tongue because it was so unique. It made sense though because she wasn't like anyone he had ever met and he had met his share of people.

"I think…" Carl paused until Rick's eyes met his, "I think that I hate you two more when you're together."

"What," Rick's eyes shot open and Carl rushed to explain even further.

"It's not that I hate you now. I just…I see the things you do together…how you both fight or get sad…you're never all the way happy. That's not how it should be. I'm not stupid."

"Don't talk like that, Carl," sometimes he wished he wasn't so brutally frank but Carl spoke the truth. He almost always did, it was a good trait at times. He gave Rick a good reality check every now and then when his focus had become cloudy. "But bingo, you're right again," he shut his eyes; he couldn't hardly keep them open anymore. One blow after another, in just an hour or so he would be forced to go with his tail between his legs, then get home unlock the front door and find the place empty. It wasn't anything to look forward to. His head was beginning to feel heavy.

Just as Rick and Carl were about to go to the car, Shane drove up beside them..

"You two alright? No crying?" he asked, a chuckle in his voice. A car honked behind him and he cursed at them, then he parked, his head still sticking out of the open window.

Carl nodded and shielded his eyes from the sun as they watched each other for a few awkward moments, "I'm gonna miss you." He lowered his head bashfully and Shane loudly awed, he was so touched that he got out of the car and embraced Carl, lifting him off the ground.

"Hey thanks for helping me find the car," said Rick as he watched Carl writhe around in Shane's arms, from his view it looked like a mixture of embarrassment and discomfort from being held too tight.

"No problem."

"Let me down, I'm ten years old. I'm not a baby."

"I get it, you're going on eleven already. You'll be a man soon blah blah blah," looking the other direction Carl wrinkled his button nose and scoffed at the sarcasm.

"Just you see when I'm older I'll be taller than you," Carl retorted, still with his two feet off the ground. Shane looked over at Rick with an amused look on his face.

"You hear that? You hear the lip your boy has."

"Not surprising to me, once the boy could talk he went out of his way to prove to me he had a smarter head on his shoulders than I did."

"I'm not going to say he's wrong," laughed Shane, shaking the boy in his arms. Despite all this struggling Carl found some comfort in all of this, he was saying goodbye to a very important part of his life and he was sad to think it wouldn't be as constant as it used to be. It almost angered him how much he loved both his father and Shane, their witty banter, their occasional bickering, their overall presence. Shane couldn't just let himself into the house he'd have to live in now with his mother, the front door wasn't always swinging, the windows weren't all open. His father wasn't going to come home from work at odd times exhausted, his spare breaths reserved for stories about the people in the town he lived in.

"Just go home already you're wearing out your welcome man," Rick nudged him not exactly taking into account how much Carl wished he could stay. Shane tilted his head, his eyes wide and brown, he had to be getting back to work anyway. For a second he looked straight into Carl's distraught face and cocked his eyebrow in that masculine way he always did, a crooked smile on his lips. It relaxed Carl, whenever he made that face he knew things were going to be alright.

"Now be strong," he whispered into his ear, Rick watched on looking confused. For that instant he trusted Shane enough that whatever he felt the need to say in secret was something that was meant to be shared only between them. "It's all bullshit but it ain't your fault."

"Yeah I know," scoffed Carl and fixed his hair, when his feet touched the ground.

"Now you I don't need to say bye since it won't be long til I see you again," Shane pointed at Rick who reacted in the very same way Carl had.

"Yeah man, we'll eat something."

"We'll get breakfast. That's what you need," Shane's arm wrapped around Rick and nudged him with his own head up against his. Both father and son smiled as they parted ways with him, eventually Shane waved and drove away leaving the two alone.

The moment Rick had been prolonging had finally crept up upon him. He sat in the car with Carl parked in front of that strange house. Rick turned down the radio, nervously shook his head side to side and bit his lip when he finally looked straight at his son. Carl's gaze was on his knees, trying his best to shut out the importance of this moment. "I-I'll see you again. Just two weeks is all."

"Yeah dad," he struggled to open the door only to realize it was still locked. It completely ruined the effect of his exit, he sighed and turned to his father. "Unlock the god damn door."

"I'm sorry Carl."

"You guys keep on saying that but I just can't believe it."

"Carl," Rick plead.

"I don't know what I want dad. I just know I don't want to be there with her. I **hate **her."

"You're so confusing. Just tell me what you're really thinking, don't pretend to be a kid and don't pretend to be an adult. Just don't do this. Don't flip flop like this," he turned back towards to the dashboard, cradling his head. "One second you're calm and the next…y-you're…I can't—"

"It's a lost cause. Just let me be angry. Unlock the door and let me go, or I'll want to stay with you."

Rick licked his lips not knowing how to respond. His heart was beating a mile a minute but all he could do was unlock the door. The resounding click echoed like his heart breaking. For a second Carl looked upset, he briefly watched his father running his hand through his hair and left, the door slamming behind him.

The sun was out, the clouds spreading as it was transitioning from morning to afternoon. Rick found himself hating it, he was praying for a rain storm, at least it would give him some closure. It would make him feel like he wasn't making such a big deal over just a little bit of a change. That's it—that's all it is, a little change. His son was still going to be around, Lori was still alive. She was just upset and she would get over it. That sun was there for a reason almost like a constant reminder that there was light at the end of the tunnel. This was just a rough patch. There was still more than enough love to get around, Rick nodded, tears forming at the corner of his eyes. If they were happy enough without him, then it would have to be that way. He'd have his time eventually, he'd open Carl's bedroom door and find him reading his books silently before he'd shout at him to not leave the door open.

What is and what wasn't didn't matter anymore.

The reality was that he was just alone now as he was then. His phone fell off his lap and onto the ground, and for a moment he thought of that woman. A few seconds he looked at it before returning his gaze to the road, his palms slippery. Another false start...but what did he expect? It was lovely and for once he actually had a story he could tell Shane when he got back home, he rarely ever got the opportunity when he was just a boring man with a family. The city was growing smaller behind him, he could feel it. As he felt the weight shrink in his heart, he fumbled with the radio until he heard Stairway to Heaven playing. A smile crept up on his face when he remembered it softly playing as they lit the bonfire as his brother's party, his eyes met up with round brown ones. She said something silently that he couldn't quite hear, he asked her to speak up and she offered him her hand, her beautiful pink lips mouthing the words _I'm Lori_.

* * *

"That's it. I'm an asshole," Michonne rested on her back, her body builder friend lay at her side holding her hand as she spoke. There was a sorrowful sound in her voice, her eyes fixated on the white ceiling.

"No you're not. You were scared, it's understandable."

There was silence between the two of them as Chaz over looked her hand, puzzled at the intertwining of it in his. He lifted it and brought it to his stomach, then looked at the ceiling as well.

"Why do you tell people to call you Chaz? Charles is a better name."

"I—ah don't know. It sounds more masculine doesn't it? Charles sounds like a person who studies a lot you know?"

"You did. You have a degree, you could be a counselor helping people but instead you own a gym."

"It's what I like to do," he felt a little ashamed but confused why she was bringing this up. "Do you like what you do?"

"Sometimes," her eyes narrowed, then she offered a more honest answer. "No. Not most of the time."

"I don't want you to think I'm evil you know. I'm just a coward. I just read the stories, the type of stories I'd have to deal with and it frightened me. I was realistic enough that I'd take it home with me."

"That means you cared."

"I do. Your turn. Why do you hate your job?"

"Cause…I just don't feel anything. I don't care for my coworkers and the ones that I do get along with are probably saying crap behind my back. It's unfulfilling. I should be the authority when Jones and Frederik aren't around but I feel like one of the kids. I'm not one of the kids. I'm fucking 35—"

"And you look good for 35."

"No…what? That's besides the point."

"But still a fact."

Michonne side-eyed him with a smile at the corner of her mouth, "But the second I saw Rick…I don't know—"

"Oh so he has a name…he's no longer the mysterious _lay_."

"I missed feeling scared. I was always going for the certain thing, the most thrills I've ever gotten lately was sleeping with strangers in dark places and never asking for their name. Pretending I was some sweet young thing…pretending I had no—baggage," the last few words really sunk in. It was a thought that always floated around in her mind that she pushed back further and further but they always hid in her mouth ready to be said to someone…anyone.

"You have to wake up every morning and you have to look forward to that morning every night."

"Do you?"

"Most days, yes."

"I think I'm going to quit."

Chaz bit his lip and furrowed his brow, he sat up and brushed the hair out of his eyes. He smiled, "You mean you'll be at the gym more?"

"Shit. I think I need to take some time to think out my future."

Monday morning snuck up on her; she stood in front of the mirror adjusting her hair. It was kinky like she usually wore it, she'd pull it back on either side so it was easier to see her face and leave the rest of her hair down. Pulling it all up and tight was usually reserved for days when she'd slave over cases that she wouldn't get appreciation for winning or much less the effort. When she put on her face she rubbed on the foundation carefully with an old makeup sponge she probably should have thrown away. Just inches away from the mirror she looked at every pore, every line she could barely make out. She didn't need concealer like most women, she didn't have to hide any wrinkles or blemishes, she could probably go without makeup if she wanted to. The eyeliner was always the tricky part, her eyes angled at a certain way and they were wide, the brush stroke was a long ways. For a while she contemplated whether she should bother or not, she opted out and just put on mascara.

Thinking back she could remember hearing the giggles of her daughters when she'd look into that same mirror. All her husband could care about was the mortgage, making payments on his stupid car, having time to spend with his stupid friends….having excuses to sleep with that much younger girl. Her eyes glazed over. She missed her daughters so much. She didn't give the faintest shit about her husband; he was just another man, another failure. Wasting time wasn't her sort of thing, the moment he handed her those divorce papers, and confirmed all her suspicions she signed it. The shaking voice, the excuses, getting home at odd times, their lack luster love life, it all spelled out one thing…she was just waiting for him to admit it.

When she walked into her living room there were still holes in the walls from the things she had thrown, the curtains were still torn, the carpet was stained from spilled drinks. The samurai sword she had hung over mantelpiece was still there despite in the heat of the moment taking it out of the sheath and threatening her husband. She shut her eyes glad that he didn't press charges. The second she set that car on fire, her arms swaying, venom spilling out of her mouth, her legs aching from jogging her weight from one side to another in a fit of anger, she looked at her daughters in their pajamas and it all suddenly dawned on her. They were afraid. They didn't know about their father cheating, they probably wouldn't understand, and they were too young to really care. They just saw their mother losing it, acting like an animal.

She tried so hard to forget it all, she tried to best to cope, to pretend and to live out this fantasy that she was a single independent woman. Her house told a different story. She never cleaned, she never called a repair man to fix the holes in the walls, she didn't buy new curtains. It wasn't that she didn't have the money…she really did but in the first place the money wasn't for the car, the mortgage or anything else, it was for her daughters—her girls. And without her girls and without the will to go to those anger management classes, there wasn't much else to do other than hit the bars. Alone or with a crowd, she drowned it until it was all foggy bliss in alley ways with men or women she had just met and the next day she'd wake up and act like nothing had happened. Back to that woman everyone knew back at the firm, the woman who worked long and hard, the woman who had no sense of humor. The men would be laughing heartily in their office, the door closed on her face. What happened to all that change, all that progress, because despite all her hard work, she wasn't seeing it. She needed respect, some fulfillment but she knew it wasn't there.

_No more closed doors. No more closed doors._

She approached the front door and at first contact she jumped up from the static shock. "Fucking hell," she shook her hand, turned the knob and left.


	4. Too Easy

The porch door swung closed as Rick walked in, the front door was unlocked and Shane's jeep was parked in front. "Hey man," a voice came from the kitchen.

Feeling his heart jump with excitement that he had long thought was gone, he tucked his keys in his pocket and sauntered over to where the voice came from. Shane stood there cooking an omelet looking rather content with himself at how much he knew his way around the place, it made sense considering Rick's house was a second home to him.

"You took a while getting here," continued Shane, biting on his lower lip and raising his gaze to Rick's. Placing his hand on his hips Rick raised his eyebrows and squint his eyes.

"Yeah well I drove pretty slow, can't compete with your reckless driving."

"So," Shane paused giving Rick a knowing look that suggested he should tell the story he teased him with much earlier. "You got anything you need to talk about."

"Oh. Michonne?"

"Is that her name?"

Rick nodded, his face getting flushed from hearing himself saying her name out loud when he had been just thinking about it for so long. "Ah—yeah," he bashfully looked at the floor.

"Well…how about it? Was she good?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," Shane smiled widely, then flipped the omelet over using two spatulas.

"You don't have to stay. I don't want you to be late for your shift."

"You can't just tease me with a yeah and not go on from there. I told you all my nasty stories."

They were nasty, the sorts of stories that left Rick with newfound dirty thoughts that still lingered in his head from his adolescence up til this point. Rick wasn't sure if he could go into as much detail as Shane would or if his story would be anywhere near as saucy as his but he decided to give it a try.

"I just went to this bar, knocked back a couple and she just sorta approached me. We started talking, got friendly—"

"What kind of friendly?"

"Oh got to know each other…I got a lot off my chest, she was a good listener."

"C'mon man get to the good stuff."

"She just kissed me out of nowhere. She kept on giving me clues the whole time we were talking, I just didn't catch on or I didn't wanna."

"You've always been a little dense there. I tell you you're an attractive man and you just don't seem to believe it."

"Right, right…we took a walk and talked some more and she just kept on holding my hand. It was strange. I could remember it shaking but it could have been mine that had been shaking the entire time. She was really great, the things she'd say, she was so brutally frank. I think I had taken the truth for granted. Everyone kept on saying everything was going to be alright, she told me the same thing but in a different way, a more down to earth way."

Watching him talk about her Shane began to catch on that maybe this girl was much more than a one night stand to Rick. He immediately began to grow worried about him, his plan backfired. He wanted happiness in his friend, but a temporary happiness that could give him a boost a confidence, a brief distraction. But now he realized this wasn't him, this was Rick. Rick could form emotional attachments in a heartbeat.

"Is that right," he opened a cabinet above him and pulled out a plate and served Rick the omelet. In mid-thought Rick took it and sat down on a stool nearby. For a second he picked apart at the omelet before he began talking again.

"She was really beautiful you know, really exotic. Big brown eyes, dark skin that almost glowed…would you believe that, she glowed and this really great smile, she made me just feel so—so…out of her league."

"You probably are buddy," laughed his friend before he started beating some more eggs.

"We had sex in the alley. She just took me there and had her way with me."

"You didn't just lay there this time buddy?"

"No….NO. I'm not seventeen Shane, jesus."

"Alright alright."

"It was a real frenzy, it was hard to keep up with her, she was tearing at my clothes and begging me to tear at hers too. Real…real wild. Lori never did that…well when we were younger she did I suppose."

"Wild huh?"

"Yeah. It was a little scary you know. For a second there I was scared she was about to rip my dick off."

"Shit. Really?"

"Yeah," laughed Rick. "It was **that** great. I was scared I didn't exactly perform…" his mouth was full with omelet and he swallowed, "…up to par. But when we finished I didn't feel satisfied, not all the way. Our clothes were still on for the most part. I felt unfulfilled. I wanted more, kind of like when you eat a slice of pizza when all you really wanted was a steak. It's a shame, I felt like it was just a sneak preview, she just offered me half of her when I wanted it all…like some lovesick teenage boy. I barely knew her I don't know what I expected. I really made a fool of myself afterwards. It was awful."

"Well it was your first time."

"Shane I have a son."

"No you idiot. I mean just jumping in, it's a good thing, course it's going to be awkward. "

"How do you do it?"

"Not a lot of thinking is involved if you ask me. I think you're doing too much of that."

"You made coffee?"

"No I forgot, we could go pick up something…maybe some doughnuts too."

"I need to shower, I might be late."

"You're pushing it buddy."

"How many days have you been late nursing a hangover? You want me to count? I've had your back now you better have mine."

"Heh you're right. Some people might say you're having a breakdown, I think you're having a breakthrough," he leaned against the counter and began eating off of the skillet with the same fork he had used to scramble the eggs. Rick would have cringed if he hadn't already known Shane well enough.

—-

For once Michonne felt like she was going somewhere rather than nowhere at all as she previously had. Progress? Hardly, she just wanted to be happy. Happiness was a dream somewhere far away. She took a look around her surroundings. Disorienting street signs, people walking in a rush, cars centimeters from one another, the aesthetics of the city just weren't doing it anymore. She may have been taking it all for granted, it had been a home for hers' for a long time. The sidewalks looked just as soiled and gray as they did when she'd walk from her ratty apartment to her elementary school. Still she had the habit of trying to not step on the cracks, she loved her mother dearly, why would she wish harm on her? Made sense then, and it still made sense now.

A woman with her two sons passed by, both of her children wide eyed and holding either hand looking content. Michonne lowered her head. They must have been tourists.

With her coffee in hand she walked into the building where her firm was. They were pretty well known, there were commercials on television, ads in the phonebook, even billboards. Michonne wasn't on any of them yet, she had had that promotion just a month ago but no one really had asked. Maybe it was too early for her to complain, too early to leave. They had just put her name outside on the sign in nice big gold letters, she didn't like the font they used too much but she felt a little satisfied about how far she had gotten.

Staying seemed to be more of a viable option after all, she was being too crazy, taking too much of a risk. For what reason? Cause a man inspired her to?

"You have three messages, I put them on your table," the secretary peeped her head into her office. "Am I interrupting?"

"No. I'm just tired."

"Well if you continued on the same path of destruction you were on on Friday I wouldn't be surprised."

"Shut up you were drunk too," Michonne weakly smiled as she cradled her head. "And just so you know I stayed in."

"And what about that man you were really chummy with? Don't think I didn't see you."

"Oh him," her voice trailed off and she blinked slowly before composing herself. "We just talked."

"You left with him," they had finally reached the true reason for the small talk. There was sneer on her lips, her eyes bright with judgement, it sent an instant pang in Michonne's stomach. It was a bad idea inviting them, she found herself deeply regretting it.

"We talked some more, what else do you want me to say."

"Nothing at all I was just curious," she perked up, a suspicious looking smile on her lips. Michonne tossed any shame aside considering further inspection of her secretary's love life, she wasn't any better off. She shrugged and broke off any eye contact as her chair squeaked. "There was one call in particular that stuck out."

"Oh yeah," Michonne ducked her head under her desk and pulled out a box full of files and began rummaging through them.

"You know who I'm talking about."

"Right. I do," longingly Michonne stared at the post-it note that said that particular person's name along with a message that was scribbled in chicken scratch. It said something vague along the lines of _please call me back_. "The number keeps on changing doesn't it?"

"Yeah it does but I'm tired of taking your personal calls."

"It isn't," Michonne lifted her head and rested against her fist, her voice stern. "She wants to talk business, it's always business. And you're just doing your job, personal calls or not, you're my secretary. I swear if I hear one more time you complain—straight up to me, or in the break room or in the fu—in..in the ladies room. I will not hesitate for one second…to find a replacement."

Her secretary stood straight up suddenly, her lips pursed with choice words that she would save for when she wasn't around. It was sickening to know the cycle before it even occurred, these people were predictable. The place was ratty, no one had great records, jumping from one job to another, this woman in particular had been fired from her last job because she had stolen some money from the pawn she had worked at as a cashier. But she just happened to have an amazing ass, drawn on eyebrows, luscious lips and a habit for crossing and uncrossing her legs slowly. She would probably stick up for her if she hadn't been so rude and judgmental; it was clear the reason why she was there. But this reason only served to depress her further and rethink why she even bothered wanting to stay.

The men there treated the women like objects and she had kept on turning a blind eye to it and for what—so she could keep her high paying job? It didn't feel worth it. There wasn't a friend there to hold onto.

"I don't want to be rude, I'm sorry if I came across that way. You just have to be professional. You hear me…pro-fes-sion-al. And being professional isn't about asking questions, and you should come to me about complaints but it always seems to be about the wrong things," continued Michonne, feeling some sympathy towards her. She always had a way of being blunt, to the point that she could sometimes be cruel, she couldn't help it. "It's always about me."

Her secretary held her tongue and grasped onto the notebook in her hands tightly. "D-do you hate women," she broke suddenly.

Michonne gasped and nodded side to side. "Hardly what gives you that impression?"

"You're threatened by me."

"No believe me I'm not. The second I decide to smash my face into a foundation ten shades off from my original skin color, I'll give you a call," grumbled Michonne attitude clearly apparent in her voice.

"And those things you said about Emily…it was uncalled for. I don't even like the girl but I wouldn't invite my coworkers to the bar and leave her out just so I could talk crap about her. It's cowardly. "

"I see."

"The only reason any of us went was because we thought you were paying and you didn't."

"God damnit…where's the Davidson file," interrupted Michonne, it was unclear whether she was paying attention or not. Her secretary looked on in shock when her words didn't leave the impression she had been expecting.

"Who?"

"Alexander Davidson…the guy who went crazy and well—it's pretty self-explanatory. It was everywhere on the news."

"I-I don't know…Emily was in charge of sorting your files."

"Is she anywhere around on time for once? "

"She got here on time_ ma'am_. She's in Jones' office right now."

"Oh," Michonne tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, her lips forming a pout. "Right," she dropped her head and smiled when she finally connected the dots.

"They're not fucking, or at least not right now," her secretary crossed her arms, an almost Cheshire cat-like grin forming on her lips. "They're talking about you, everyone's talking about you."

"What," Michonne's eyes widened.

"You shouldn't have even bothered coming in today. You look like you need a break."

"What? Why," her lips began to quiver, she couldn't remember half the things she had said about Emily. The whole weekend she was riding out the emotional rollercoaster between bliss and agony reflecting back on what happened with Rick, she could barely think back, that far back.

Suddenly the phone began to ring, Michonne's eyes shot straight to it to see it was an inside line calling…it was coming from Jones' office.

—

_It's Monday Monday Monday we know you dread it but you got to get your butt off of that bed and go go go._

Rick shot up from his bed and slammed the snooze button. He had just done an overnight shift and had forgotten to turn off the alarm; usually Lori was the one who did it for him. Now with Carl gone there wasn't any reason for him to see the light of day unless he had to work or an emergency happened and emergencies rarely happened in King County. He licked his dry lips, tossed and turned a couple of times until he had decided sleep wasn't going to come back to him until it wanted to. Bones aching, and eyes dry and strained, he walked over to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. He dug it out of his dangerously empty refrigerator and twisted the cap off, his knuckles loudly cracking as he did so.

Not having eaten a proper meal for a while, Rick contemplated going to his favorite restaurant to eat. Watching the door he decided against it, he didn't want to go outside unless he absolutely had to. He scratched his face and then his belly, he had been sleeping in his boxers lately since no one was there to protest.

The trees creaked outside as the wind blew, he pulled the curtain open to see that it was about to rain. The sky was grey, and there was barely any light outside, he felt some sense of closure from this. The scent of the oncoming storm filled his home, he probably should have when he had gotten up. It smelled like green green grass, the sort of grass he'd lay in as a child. Maybe it was clairvoyance that he could smell it before it ever hit the ground, but it brought on a sense of nostalgia.

In a daze he rinsed out his coffee pot and searched for his can full of coffee grounds, when he opened the lid he was overwhelmed by the aroma, a smile spread across his lips. Maybe he would go out that day.

"You know Justine is single," a voice sang behind him as he was overlooking the menu at the King County Café. He cringed and turned around to see the owner of the place, she was an elderly lady, her husband had passed long ago so she found some amusement in putting her own two cents in everyone's lives. She meant well, he knew that but he felt that same familiar pang in his heart.

"Ah Justine who?"

"Over there," she pointed and loudly whispered, for some reason thinking it was stealthy to do so. The woman looked in their direction with a mixture of shock and embarrassment in her face and then quickly looked away. "You're close in age, she's of good breeding. Her parents own one of the bigger farms around here, she doesn't sleep around—"

"Stop there," Rick laughed. "You're going a bit fast. I need some time."

"To what? To heal? We're all ticking clocks, remember that boy"

"Alright are you going to take my order?"

"Fine what it is then?"

"Uhh Philly Cheesesteak and a soup…what soups do you have…"

"Well," she lifted her gaze upwards, "chicken…noodle soup….mushroom…and asparagus…or is it spinach. Don't try that one it's awful."

Startling the both of them Rick's phone began to ring, he quickly made a grab for it concerning him that maybe it was something to do with Carl. Instead it was a number he didn't recognize, he looked at it suspiciously. It was a local number but not one he recognized or had in his contacts. He rejected it and continued with his order.

When the food finally came by, he began to consume it quickly, his hunger suddenly apparent. A lot of things had been forgotten, he just wasn't aware of how bad it was. He was numb, in another world entirely. Sadly he looked at the empty chairs in front of him and to his side, he had sat down in his usual table. He was a creature of habit and without Carl and Lori, the food didn't seem to taste as great. In mid-bite it struck him to check his phone. There was a voicemail so he decided to listen to it just to distract himself, he figured it was a bill collector or a telemarketer.

"Hey, you said for me to call you. Well this is me calling you b-but HOLD ON LET ME MAKE MY FUCKING CALL. I HAVE RIGHTS YOU KNOW. Yes sir, I'm aware this is my third call and yes I'm aware that no one has fucking answered, this is my third voicemail that I'm leaving with someone. Let me leave my god damned voicemail then. I need bail I'll pay you back, it's alley-way girl and I'm sorry for a lot of things—" Then it cut off. Rick's jaw dropped open.

_Michonne? _


	5. Contact

Author's Notes: Thanks a lot for all the reviews, I notice that you guys keep on coming back for more and I just love that man. I'm glad you enjoy it and it's super fun to write. I'm totally cool with criticism if you want to give me your two cents as well, I dig the feedback. So these two troubled kids finally reuinite, huh, let us see what shit goes down.

* * *

"When you think about it I got away with it," in a cell Michonne sat on a cold metal bench along with three other women looking just as emotionally spent as she was. "This humidity does nothing for my hair, I look just as upset as I really am." The woman next to her smiled, she had a peculiar odor to her, smoke and cats, she wasn't that far off from her. Resting her elbows on her knees Michonne smiled and moved side to side anxiously.

It was a matter of who came to take her out, she could wait forever. There was a strong possibility no one was coming. Her phone had been confiscated so she had no idea if anyone had called her with excuses, but frankly she didn't want to bother listening to them.

A cop was cheerfully talking to someone outside and brought that person in. They were in uniform, she sank back down on her seat, a tense pout on her lips. Both men came clearly into view and she was shocked to see it was Rick. His eyes brightened up when he saw her and she may have not known but so did hers. She stood up and adjusted her skirt, and heard the satisfying sound of the cell unlocking.

Rick graciously grabbed her belongings and handed her her heels with a curious look on his face, why on earth did they take away her heels?

She looked a lot smaller without them, he smiled bashfully and shook the hands of the cop he was talking to. The entire time after their meeting she tried to not make any eye contact with him, she looked ashamed of herself.

"They told me what happened. You want to talk about it," said Rick opening the front door for her as she looked distracted by all the other people sitting at desks at the police station.

"I never thought it'd be me behind bars. I think I took my luck for granted."

Outside it was still dark, the pavement wet from rain, people were shaking the water out of their umbrellas. "What are you talking about? You're lucky now. They're not pressing charges against you."

"What? I attacked my boss and the cops."

"I don't know about your boss…but I talked to the two men…that you—uhh attacked. They were nice enough and I explained that I was going to make you…attend well…go to"

"Spit it out," her eyes grew with dread.

"Anger management sessions," he licked his lips and watched her drop her head and sigh when she sat in his car. Rick took off his hat when he got in in his side, his eyes glossy with worry.

"You didn't have to you know," she grunted trying to retain some pride when in reality she really wanted to thank him. It was distracting, just like she had predicted he looked amazing in uniform. Her eyes kept on wanting to go back to him.

"Hmm why not? It wasn't much, the guys want any reason to not have to do more paperwork. They have bigger things to worry about anyway."

"I mean you drove all the way over here," she brushed her kinky hair out of her face. Her brows furrowed, her eyes intense.

"Do you want me to take you home? Where's your car?"

"It probably has loads of tickets on it anyway. I've been here for a while, you took some time to get here… Just take me home," she pouted like a child and rested her hands awkwardly on her lap. Rick still sat there and looked over in her direction. Feeling anxious from the heat of his stare she lifted her eyes towards his reluctantly. They made some eye contact for what seemed like forever. She was uncertain of what he wanted of her so she erupted. "What? What are you waiting for," she shouted.

"I don't know where you live."

"Oh, you just go straight."

When they arrived Rick noticed her house didn't look too different to the one Lori was staying at, in fact it was a bit bigger and had a second story. Michonne got out of the car and had a change of heart and asked for him to lower the window. She stuck her head in and smiled, some of the confidence Rick had remembered had faded away. In fact she looked worn down. "Can you stick around for a bit?"

"I have to go to work—"

"In a few hours? I get it but please just give me a second, it won't be long."

Rick had to admit it to himself, he was a bit out of it as he stared straight into her deep brown almond shaped eyes. Stupidly he nodded, and when he zoned back he started questioning how ridiculous he must have appeared. He probably looked like a dopey love-struck kid when he should have been looking like a rugged man in uniform who casually saved the day, _her _day. Desperately he wished he didn't seem like the sort of man who had been awaiting her call because in the back of his head he was. Fleeting thoughts of her had come to him from time to time, it made him feel foolish that he held onto such a small moment. Sure she called him for her own benefit but he was more than glad to give it to her just so he'd have some more time to get in a word. Maybe he'd win some points with her, she looked upset but he was glad that it wasn't directed at him. The entire ride she had been silent just looking out the window, he wondered if that's how she'd get when she was really angry, maybe that was the person she really was or vice versa. He couldn't be sure.

When he looked at her house he could see her silhouette moving side to side doing god knows what but it seemed like she was in a rush. Finally she stopped In the middle of one of her rooms and turned on the light, the curtains weren't shut and he could see right in. From what he could make of it she was putting up her hair, bobby pins or barrettes held in her mouth. She was jutting her chin in concentration, elongating her neck as she pulled her messy brown hair back tightly. Her hands put every hair in place, for the most part; she got one ringlet and set it free just like she wanted. After that she appeared satisfied, she turned back and looked straight into the car. Rick looked startled that he was caught and moved his eyes back onto the boring old dusty dashboard. There was an apparent smug look on her face as she closed the curtains and turned off the lights.

Minutes passed and she reappeared, shutting the front door behind her. In one hand she held a bag and another it was something that appeared to be an animal carrier.

"What—What what are you doing," stammered Rick, looking backwards as she opened the back door and threw her bag in first then the carrier.

"Protest all you want but you're taking me with you," she commanded, as she took off her blazer, "Lucky for me I didn't do my dry cleaning and I had to rewear this…Still had your number in the pocket." Smiling widely she shut the door and opened the front one, sitting comfortably in the passenger seat. "You know…" Michonne bit her lip and looked over at Rick, her eyes soft. "I didn't think about it, is your wife at home?"

"Wife? What? No of course not."

"So you're not married?"

"Shit…you still thought-but I told you."

"I know…I just wasn't sure…I just didn't care," her eyes fell to her hands, a hint of melancholy in her voice. "You want me to make it worth your while?"

"You're not being serious are you? You aren't trying to pay me off with sex," objected Rick. "I'm still in uniform!"

"Oh. Oh no. I meant I'd make for good company. Rick what the hell," she scoffed and leaned against the door. "I mean of course sex would happen…eventually…but still!"

Rick swallowed and held his head up high as he turned on the car, "No—no."

"No what?

"No sex," he nervously moved his thumbs as he turned the steering wheel, "You're only coming if we just stay friends."

"We can still be friends and-"

"We're both at confusing…uhh..stages in our lives…we don't need any more confusion do we?"

The hope that was once in her eyes had dimmed, not for a long time had she been turned away. It wasn't so much confidence that she had, it was that she kept on offering people something they had a hard time saying no to regardless of who it was. She was too used to hearing a yes. No doubt she was still getting a yes, but it was to another thing entirely. "Alright," It was a risk she was taking, she should have been surprised. She measured it all up to a bit of left over resentment from ignoring him. This reaction was completely justifiable but she didn't exactly want it to go this way. She watched him as he drove the car, his jaw clenched tightly, he must have been nervous or agitated from all of this. A part of her wanted to tell him all was fine but she wasn't sure if she was the problem or not.

"I'm glad."

Michonne grunted, her eyelids heavy from exhaustion. The sky was turning dark, going from a light grey to an even darker grey, Rick was lightly playing the radio. She could barely make of what genre it was, but she didn't really care, it just filled in the noise the both of them should have been making from lively conversation.

"The place was getting lonely."

"Oh," sometimes she wondered why he'd open up to her, was he like this with every person he met? Something told her that wasn't the case. What made her so special?

"So who is that? You brought a cat."

"Yeah her name is Kim. She's pretty quiet, she's a tabby. I forgot to ask if you even like cats."

"No I'm alright with them, my grandpa had a farm and I'd play there as a kid with the mousing cats they had there. I've always wanted one, or hell—any kind of pet really, I just never really had the time."

"My girls spent more time with her than I did. Still can't forgive that bastard for separating them."

"Your husband?"

"Yeah," she licked her chapped lips and rested her hand on his knee giving it a friendly squeeze. "For a second there I thought all people were like him. Thanks for proving me wrong."

Getting flustered, Rick coughed and pretended it didn't affect him one bit.

He could feel her watching him, he knew there were some more meaningful words about to be said. It was somewhere there on the horizon.

"Why did you?"

"Because…"

"You had no reason to. I was shitty to you."

"Yeah but…I ain't winning any awards either."

There was a brief pause between the two of them, Rick wondered if he could make it all the way through the drive, his palms were clammy, his starchy uniform felt like a prison. But he managed and by the time they got to his house he parked in the drive-way and got down letting out all the air in his lungs. "I'm gonna get a sandwich and then I'll go," he muttered, not sure if was directed at her or just himself.

"Okay," she watched as Rick carried her bag and her cat carrier.

When Rick had left her things in his bedroom and had wandered to the refrigerator, his head hung low when he realized it was empty. Of course. "Shit I guess it'll have to wait," he grumbled. "Hey Michonne just make yourself at home," he leaned against the counter and put on his hat, an exasperated look on his face. "if you need anything there's a store just a couple of blocks from here."

"Yeah, stupid me forgot to bring some kitty litter," she reappeared from the bedroom unbuttoning her white dressy shirt. She had a tank top underneath, but his eyes lingered on her undressing for too long. "I—ah like the place," she attempted to break his gaze.

"Mhmm," Rick looked around proudly, "I never thought I'd own my own house. Me and Lori kept on going house to house paying for rent, we never imagined we'd actually live somewhere that was actually ours. " The place was different now to him, despite the sunshine in his words there was an obvious sense of gloom. Michonne watched him with a sympathetic look on her face that only served to make him feel guilty for bringing it up in the first place. He couldn't help it.

"I'm alright Rick, you can leave if you want to," she warmly smiled, her cat rubbing itself against her legs. Rick lowered his head and chuckled, the distance between the two of them felt like an ocean but he still felt glad to see her this way. Bending over she pet Kim and cooed at her, whispering sweet things, he wanted that to be the last thing he saw before he left.

Michonne looked out the window when she heard his car drive away, it was already night out so she wasn't so sure whether she should go or not. The neighborhood seemed safe enough, she just didn't want to take a shower and put on a different set of clothes. She smelled herself and shrugged, not so bad. Digging through her bag she pulled out a pair of dark grey torn skinny jeans and walked out the door. She shivered when she realized wearing a sleeveless shirt wasn't a good idea. A car drove slowly by her and then gunned it nearly startling her. Quickening her pace she found the place Rick was talking about, it was no wal-mart but it was ten times easier to find the kitty litter, the place was so ill stocked they were out of litter boxes so she got a dishpan.

After paying and receiving some suspicious glances from the cashier and the other customers she began to realize how close knit the place must have been. She felt like an intruder but instead of being upfront about it she forced a smile on her face, there, progress already. When she made her way back she heard another car driving slowly, she turned abruptly to confront whoever it was and Rick called to her.

"Hey you doing alright?"

"Shouldn't you be working," Michonne chuckled and kept on walking just so his car would follow her along slowly.

"Yes ma'am," he sang, "This here is my partner Shane."

"Hello there," Shane sounded a bit too flirtatious, "She is sexy, shit, man," he muttered to Rick. Rick nervously smiled hoping she hadn't heard him.

"Is it really that slow around here," she asked.

"It is slow tonight," Rick moaned and Shane nodded, his head trying to look around his partner's just to get a longer glimpse at her. "Not that I want something bad to happen or anything."

"You want a little domestic disturbance to shake things up a little bit," she stopped walking and smiled widely, a smile that was obviously only for Rick. By then Shane had sized her up and liked her by what he saw so far. "I'm good at doing those."

Getting flustered fast, Rick giggled awkwardly and Shane looked on in shock at the state she left his friend in. It was understandable but good god Rick wasn't playing the alpha male part properly.

The radio went off suddenly. "There has been a reported robbery, suspect is a tall Caucasian man, brown hair, blue eyes and weighs at around a buck forty last seen around your area."

"Give me a street or something," Shane radioed back.

"Well that's good," Michonne smiled.

"No but I guess it sort of is," Rick laughed, "Probably some guy stole some beer money, always happens," he waved and drove off.

When she arrived back at the house she was greeted by the tabby who she pushed off with her leg gently. "You didn't make a mess did you," the cat meowed in response and Michonne looked at her suspiciously. After putting the litter box and instructing her cat that it was in the bathroom she went back to the couch. There were photos everywhere, and since there was no one around she looked at them closely. She smiled, she couldn't help herself. There was Lori, wide eyed and smiling bashfully in most of them, Carl at her side. Rick was there too, usually with his arms around the both of them. He'd often be wearing silly things like button ups with dated patterns and wranglers that made her wonder why she found him so attractive in the first place. No doubt was in her mind that he looked happy, he felt bliss but the more recent the pictures were the more forced the smile was on Lori's lips.

What on earth went wrong? They were a picturesque sort of couple, two beautiful middle class Americans with their sweet smart kid living in the middle of suburbia. Michonne heard herself repeat that thought again, the second time around it sounded like they were destined for disaster. She wasn't any different either, at first it was the same tired fantasy that she was living out. She was going through the motions with her husband, by the time she had her second child she was beginning to have doubts. He wanted the money but he also wanted her to be home, it was clear which he preferred.

One photo stuck out to her as she walked along the hall. It was Rick again, much younger, he must have been in his twenties. His hair was still cut the same way, still wearing the same sort of clothes, except he had the widest smile, a smile a proud father would have. He was cradling a tiny ghost of a baby, so pale and bald and precious. It must have been Carl, he was in mid yawn clearly not valuing the importance of his own existence.

What a bittersweet feeling that engulfed her. There must have been thousands, millions of people doing the same thing, living the same way like miserable sheep. When you've got it all do you ever really know how temporary it could all be? She didn't understand why she overacted the way she did, why she wanted her husband to admit to not loving her anymore. She just wanted to know she was right, just another ego trip. Being right wasn't worth it, destroying his car, making a scene, not a single thing could be undone. Her children were all that should have mattered; they were the real light in her life, the beautiful outcome of all this mess. From that point on she realized she wasn't going to run away because she thought she was failure. She was adamant that she would figure herself out, and see what needed to be fixed just so she could see her girls again, but a feeling of dread washed over her. She had to make herself vulnerable and that was the last thing she liked to do.

* * *

Rick and Shane found themselves in the rural area of town, the glowing eyes of animals watching them as they held their flashlights within their line of vision.

"Where is this bastard," cursed Shane, "I want to go eat a burger."

"Oh me too," groaned Rick trying to stretch his neck. "My muscles have been real sore lately. I read somewhere it could be a lot of things, no sleep and dehydration could be one of them. I've been hitting up the caffeine just to stay awake these past few days."

"Bud come over here," motioned his partner and Rick stopped in his tracks looking confused. "I'll give you a massage," he fixed his black gloves and smiled wickedly. "Haven't done it in a long time though."

"Not with your girlfriends," laughed Rick, letting his shoulders fall as he stood in front of Shane. "Isn't this weird?"

"Nah man we're in the middle of nowhere, who is gonna judge?"

"Fine fine."

Shane put the flashlight in his mouth and made a strange noise right before resting his hands on either shoulder. "That Meethone isth really somefin."

"Do you have the fucking flashlight in your mouth?"

"Yesth."

"Yeah she is. I don't have the slightest clue what to do next." He heard Shane grunt behind him as he squeezed his muscles, it was somewhat relaxing despite Rick feeling so tense. In the distance he could see the reflection of something against his flashlight, he squinted. "Hey I see something."

"What," Shane looked around Rick.

"Sir excuse me sir," Rick started approaching the person. It was the reflective tape on a bicycle that crossed right in front of him. The bike stopped and the man turned around looking startled. Rick's eyes widened when he realized he fit the description. "I'm going to have to ask you to stop right there."

"What are you doing in the middle of nowhere sir," Shane walked towards the man, he realized quick that he wasn't all there, he appeared to be jittering and sweaty. "You're going to have to answer me."

The man muttered something that neither men could quite hear, his clothes were torn and he looked like a junky. "Well he's awful suspicious," Rick said sternly to Shane, he nodded and put his hand on his holster meanwhile Rick held his hands in the air as he carefully advanced towards the man. "Now sir you don't want any trouble now do you? We just want to ask you a couple of questions."

He shivered, his eyes growing wider with each step they took. But he looked as if he were starting to calm down.

"You been around any gas stations lately?"

Rick cringed, Shane was being painfully blunt but he went along with it. "Nod yes or no sir," the junkie started messing with his hands, his sleeves long enough to cover them. "I don't think he's entirely conscious."

"You on a bad trip," mocked Shane, still the man didn't stir.

"I'm going to have to take you in sir, maybe you'll be more compliant in the station."

Being first to get to him Rick placed his hand on his shoulder, grabbing one of his arms meanwhile the other was holding a pair of handcuffs. Shane watched on in horror. What was Rick thinking? The long sleeves could be concealing a weapon but before he could speak the man swung a sharp object at Rick's direction. Rick barely bearly missed being slashed in the throat and fell back only to be pinned down by the man. The junkie drooled all over his shirt as Rick struggled to push him off, his pupils were dilated and erratic. Rick hadn't been this frightened for his life in a long time, in what felt like an eternity Shane pulled the man off of him and held him in a chokehold. He struggled then fainted.

"Shit did I kill him," Shane mouthed, flabbergasted by what just occurred.

"I—ah don't know," Rick crawled on his knees over to him and felt his pulse. "No he's still alive. He must have passed out."

When the initial shock passed Rick got up off the road to see the dirt on his hands, his left hand was pretty bloody from the fall. Lifting his gaze up to Shane's expecting a pat on the back or some kind words; he noticed there was something wrong. Lips were held tightly together, tears were forming in Shane's stony seemingly black eyes, he was clearly upset and for good reason. Rick was startled when he was suddenly shoved and knocked back off his feet. He stared at him hurt and confused as Shane grabbed the man and slung him over his shoulder taking him back to the cop car. Bending his knees still sitting on the ground in defeat, Rick rubbed his forehead. What was wrong with him?

* * *

The bedroom door creaked open and the bed moved, sinking in on the side that Michonne wasn't on. She turned over to see Rick crawling in with her, his face shrouded in darkness.

"What are you doing?"

"Shit I got in the bed and you're in it," Rick cursed, his eyes weary from sleep deprivation.

"Don't lie, you got In here on purpose," she blinked slowly, pulling the blankets tighter around her.

"I only got an hour of sleep the night before, maybe less."

"It's alright, I don't mind," her voice sounded warm and soothing, something Rick hadn't heard for a long time. He shut his eyes then opened them again to see she was still staring straight at him.

"I probably shouldn't," he whined, his voice sounding like a child.

"Why?"

"You're so beautiful."

"Bullshit."

"No you are and it makes me scared."

"Scared of what?"

"….I'll just get hurt," he was tired and he was more than aware how foolish he was sounding.

"It's alright, I'm scared too. Everyone's scared of something."

"Scared of me?"

"No. I'm scared of bigger things, things that go bump in the night."

"Not really?"

She laughed, her eyes staying still on his. "Mmm no, well, maybe. It depends."

"Did I already tell you you were beautiful," Rick's hand touched the side of her face, his thumb grazing her cheek softly, she shut her eyes and rubbed against his palm looking almost intoxicated by his touch.

"I don't think I'd ever get sick of hearing it," the corner of her lip turned upwards but her eyes remained closed. If she had probably taken a step back she would have cringed by what he was saying but he seemed so genuine, up til then he had been a man of few words. Every word carried some weight in them, like a burden he was trying to cast off with each breath. She was surprised that despite all these sweet things he was saying, he didn't expect her to blow him because of it and the real tragedy was at the moment she would have really liked to.

Regretfully she felt his hand move off her face and return to his side of the bed. "Let's take this slow."

"Right," she felt that pang in her gut again. Slow, why slow? Nodding, she squeezed the pillow her head rested on and brought up her knees just in the hope they would graze up against his. They didn't. For a second she shut her eyes and then opened them again. "I'm going to wake up soon and take a jog." He didn't answer, he was dead asleep, she must have fallen asleep as well but the one second her eyes closed might as well been an hour. She didn't really know.

Up close she could see that he already needed a shave, his sharp jawline drew her eyes along it almost hungrily. His eyelashes fluttered about, they were long and a light brown color, draped across the bags underneath his eyes. She felt uneasy but drawn to him, frightened yet comfortable. Moving closer, she removed her shirt, just like he had removed his earlier and pressed her chest against his collar bone and rested her chin against his head. He stirred in his sleep and rubbed up against her, wrapping his arms around her waist instinctively. A sad thought came to her; he must have done the same with his wife. For a second she felt sick but she didn't move from her position. She just drifted off again.

Rick awoke to a heartbeat against his ear; he moved his head side to side and then opened his eyes to see a topless Michonne holding him. His face grew red but he didn't want to push her off, it felt nice. He just found himself wishing his erection would go away before she woke up, he was a grown man not a teenager. When he tried to move his thought process away from sex, it eventually went away. Bringing his eyes up to hers he tried to wake her up, his fingers sliding up and down her back soothingly. She was a light sleeper because she arched to his touch, accentuating her breasts even more. Eyes growing wider Rick tried his hardest to not let his thoughts stray, he honestly wanted to know how she got there when he specifically told her he didn't want this this soon.

One brown eye opened and then another.

"Hey," she groggily said, her eyes looking content, "what's got you so red."

"Michonne," he nagged although still not separating himself from her.

"What? I just wanted a cuddle, you didn't fight me off."

"No I suppose not."

"You still aren't," she smiled as she tried to sit up, his arms still held onto her waist seemingly not having the desire to let go. She was so warm and soft to the touch. "You like them."

"What," Rick's eyes looked glazed as he drew in the image of her in front of him.

"My breasts."

"I haven't got any complaints," he smiled foolishly, "It's just—"

"Yeah I know. It's just a habit, it's not…sexual or anything…" she looked the other way feeling painfully vulnerable.

"Okay," Rick chose to not pry any further and let go of her, sitting up as well. "What time is it?"

"I know for sure I overslept and you probably need to sleep some more. Damn, I wanted to jog before the sun came out."

"You exercise a lot?"

"Yeah it calms me," she looked at the watch she still wore on her wrist. "Maybe I still will," her voice trailed off.

"Can I get a kiss," Rick almost whispered.

Michonne turned around dazed and wrinkled her nose, a wide smile on her lips. "What?"

"A kiss," he said a notch louder as he leaned back into the pillow.

"Mmm maybe," she grabbed the tank she had discarded and put it back on. When she got out of bed he was surprised to see she was already wearing her gym clothes. She jogged in place to get the blood back in her legs and then began to do her stretches. He watched curiously and then delved back into the blankets, yawning loudly.

"You're right, my breath probably is awful," Rick spoke again trying to save face.

"Shut up," she jumped up from her stretched and walked over to his side of the bed, staring at him with warm eyes that served to melt him further. Sadly she had a moment of clarity. "Truth is neither of us are gonna feel any better and if we do it'll only last a second."

At the moment Rick was unsure if she was talking about the momentary satisfaction that comes from sex or the impending doom of the relationship that would soon come afterward. He hated himself for being so weak, she must have felt the same way because she left the room before he could even answer.


	6. A Heavy Head to Match a Heavy Heart

hey sorry I took forever to update, I was having some issues in my life and depression and shit but I never stopped writing. I just didn't want to reread it as I went along. Watch out for a love scene, I guess your waiting paid off. Sorry for any typos, I have a bad eye.

* * *

"I like it here," Michonne rested against the dashboard, an almost childlike happiness on her face. The sun shone on her glowing skin. She was getting a little sweaty with the windows open but she didn't mind it. She fanned herself off and drank out of an ice cold bottle of water meanwhile Rick hung his head out the window to grab the bag that was being handed to him from the drive thru. He thanked the person and looked at Michonne brightly trying to desperately hide the enthusiasm he felt when she said those very words.

"You do," Rick dug through the brown paper bag and pulled out a sub and handed it to her, which she gladly took as he parked the car.

"Well It reminds me of something. I know for sure I've never been here…or at least I have no conscious recollection."

"The people are good here and I have everything I would ever want," Rick started to sound like he was trying to sell her the place despite not being aware of it himself.

"…you know. It's almost like a place you'd pass through to get to somewhere better," she finished her thought, not hearing what Rick had said. "Mom always said that whenever she'd take us out to go visit our relatives for whatever holiday. Sometimes we'd stay at a hotel for a day or two especially if there was bad weather, it was temporary but I always wanted to stay…"

It appeared Rick didn't process that last part because he was too busy hearing selected words that drove a dagger through his heart. Temporary? Maybe he was reading far too much into it, moving too fast but he couldn't help it. He grabbed a curly fry and shoved it down his throat and chewed it quickly as he tried to figure out how to process his hurt and ultimately his anger.

"I'd have to disagree," he said after swallowing, his brow furrowed. This sudden hostility shocked Michonne, she put down her sandwich and jutted her chin, tightening her mouth.

"I don't mean to offend—"

"It's home. It's my home. I want to live here and die here."

A sigh escaped her mouth as she continued eating. He had completely misunderstood her and now he had this annoying look on his face, the wounded puppy look. She tilted her head; her eyes warm and full of sympathy, Rick turned towards her, uneasy and hurt. He had the sort of precious expression on his face that made her want to fix his hair, only to mess it up again. "We haven't seen it all have we," she dragged her words softly.

"No well, we could go to the more rural area with all the farms and stuff," he pointed out to the distance, a pout still present on his lips, "but that's probably boring."

"No what are you talking about? Take me there"

With each corner he took she soaked up the sights. Trees in perfect rows, brick walls, every building took as much space as needed, not too much and not any less. The citizens were simple enough looking people, they took careful notice when Rick would pass by, he'd wave and they'd wave back. It was impossible for everyone to know each other but Rick was a well-known guy apparently. She looked at him, he was beaming, he was proud of this small town. It was almost alien-like to her, like something out of the movies but it was growing on her, she appreciated the change of scenery, the change of pace. She liked being able to walk where ever she wanted to go and not being afraid of getting lost, Rick would always find her.

When he got far enough he stopped the car by a tree and she quickly got out of the car and stretched her long lean body. He tried to not stare too long and coughed, then spit out the window before getting out himself. Leaning against the hood he watched her approach the wire fence and rest her elbow on the wooden post. "It looks like it stretches on forever," she spoke softly.

"Huh," Rick approached her, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Ah yeah, but it doesn't."

"You don't need to tell me that," she laughed and smiled at him making his knees grow weak. He just shrank down and stared at the dirt he kicked with his boot. "Everything's so damn green here."

"Yeah?"

"I'm so used to all the grey I suppose," she lowered her head only to be distracted by something else. A white with black spotted horse was in the distance in the middle of the green pasture, its long mane blew as it moved its head side to side and neighed. "Beautiful."

Rick nodded as he watched it galloping around; it was probably giving them a little bit of a show. He realized he took those sorts of things for granted, although he had so much pride for this town, he had forgotten exactly why. The scenery, the air could never compare to anywhere else. "I know how to ride those you know."

"Really," laughed Michonne, she grinned ear to ear. "Stop fitting the stereotype."

"I'm a little rusty, it's been a while."

"Mmm," she nudged him and rubbed his forearm, then held onto his wrist hooking her thumb under his watch.

"Are you ah—how long do you plan to..." anxiously he switched his footing, licking his lips.

"To stay," all flirtatiousness was instantly zapped from her face. "Not too long…as long as you'd want me around."

"No Michonne, I've just been doing a lot of thinking—"

"That's the last thing you should be doing"

"Shane says the same thing."

"What do you expect me to say? I haven't thought too far ahead but if I'm overstaying my welcome," she let go of his wrist and returned to her original position, staring far off, a grimace on her sweet face.

"You're not really. It's been what? A week or so?"

"I want to sell my house," her voice sounded strained as she tucked her hands into her pockets of her torn up jeans.

"T-that's good, " Rick's heart skipped a beat, he turned towards her then turned back away. "I—ah….before you interrupted me…about the thinking part. You could stay forever and I wouldn't really mind, is all."

Michonne's eyes widened then she dropped her head bashfully, surprising Rick. This was the first time she actually dropped her defenses and it was insanely out of character. She placed her hand over her lips and when she finally removed it, the smile was gone. It was a sight to see, however brief. "T-that's good to know," she stammered before her voice grew strong again.

"I know you're not the type of person who sticks around very long are you?"

"I don't know," she answered matter-of-factly. "I can't really say."

"I just say this because I'm pretty sure I'm falling for you."

"I can tell."

"It's hard for me, with everything…that's going on."

"Is this why you took me out?"

"What," he scratched underneath his chin, and then laughed to himself, "Well I've just been wanting to find a reason to show you off."

"You have no idea how stupid you sound right now do you?"

"Heh. Nope. But I have an idea," his eyes must have been catching the reflection of the grass because the colors were changing to a deep green. "I don't like talking about these sorts of things really. I'm trying to change though."

"I'm the worst person you should be opening up to."

"I think you're the best, really," vulnerability was very much present in his voice and his demeanor, it made her uncomfortable that she couldn't return the sentiment.

With that they both grew quiet, birds chirping in the trees somewhere above them. At that moment Rick would have been glad to be able to hold her hands in his, his thumbs stroking those soft palms, squeezing them and having the privilege of feeling her squeeze back. The thought seemed like the best of dreams but she always left him dangling with no real answer. He needed stability and reassurance, and while he got neither, he still felt them when he was with her.

They left when it began to get dark which didn't take long, her hand ever so slightly brushed against his before they parted ways. Her eyes always managed to say more than what her mouth would give up, she was begging him to stop digging his own grave so he decided it was best to leave things as they were. But he felt like he was really prolonging it, _the talk. _Sharing his space, breathing the same air, sharing everything with her in absolute silence was driving him over the edge. Lori's ghost still lingered, she was very embodiment of the fear that he would somehow make it all go wrong. The cycle was repeating all over again, he could see it happening before his very own eyes. No control over his tongue, no control over his hands and eyes.

Why did it have to feel like he was walking on a tight rope?

Time dragged on and she still didn't say anything else. When it was midnight she stayed in the kitchen watching her cereal grow soggy as she sat with both legs pulled up against her, her head resting on her knees.

When he laid his heavy head on the pillow that night and drifted to sleep with her beside him he dreamt of hands on his arms pushing him down. He didn't resist. She could walk the halls of his house with her bare feet, singing to catchy songs he had never heard of. He had gotten used to finding her on his floor in her sporty black underwear doing push-ups, her voice shaking and trembling with each number she'd announce to herself in triumph. All the attitude, her hands on her hips, the swivel in her seductive walk, he'd grown to appreciate it all with each fleeting second. Her fingers intertwined in his, that's all he could ever hope for. He could see the shadow rocking above him, her hair framing her round face, the whites of her eyes brighter than anything he had ever seen in his life.

Her touch was firm and passionate, her head elsewhere. Rick felt clouded with worry, pondering if he could ever be enough. Despite all this doubt his head was dizzy, his vision cloudy, his lips agape in bliss. Bliss of the unknown, he hadn't felt it for so long. Never had he wanted to be inside someone so much but he wanted her approval, he wanted her to mirror his desire. He felt this hunger building up in his stomach, a hunger for more, he wanted it all, not just half of her, he wanted it all.

The woman had such a hold on him but he had never felt so aroused in his life as she had her way with him, her nails digging into his chest exerting a hiss out of him. As she quickened her pace she arched just as he was starting to, his hands clinging to the sheets of his bed until his knuckles where white. When the pleasure passed he waited for his reward, his real reward. He desperately wanted a kiss; it was strange how far apart they had been the entire time. Still no matter how much he willed them to, his hands couldn't raise off the bed to pull her close by the neck, feel her plump lips push against his less impressive ones. He wanted to rub up and down her back and make her shiver underneath his touch, but none of these things happened. How could they have sex but have it not be intimate at the same time?

The anticipation reached a peak as she moved out of the shadows and into his line of vision. The facial structure was far too familiar. It wasn't Michonne all along, it was Lori. Her round eyes penetrating his own with such a fierce gaze, so possessive and overpowering, it burned straight into him.

With that revelation Rick awoke in a sweat. Michonne was still next him laying on her side. Her eyes were shut and her lips were slightly open, her lower lip quivering as if she were in the midst of some conversation he wasn't at the receiving end of. If she didn't say the words he wanted to hear, what was she doing there in the first place? As he watched her he hoped that he could somehow will her to wake up just to calm him down but she didn't. She stayed there, breathing, softly dreaming of something much less panic inducing than him.

If he didn't know her better he'd think she had it all together. Maybe that's why she'd lash out, she wasn't made of stone, that he knew for a fact.

Tearing himself away from her he moved to the sofa which he wound up sharing with her cat. She watched him intently in the almost darkness, not asking for food, not asking for attention, just curious. In the midst of all of this he had never given her much attention, feeling brave he reached over and pet her. Surprisingly she leaned into it, moving so he would rub from her head to the back of her spine. Rick smiled and rubbed under her chin.

"Now you don't mind me sharing this place here with you," he whispered, his heartbeat returning to a normal pace. He situated himself and grabbed a blanket nearby. The morning before Michonne had been wrapped up in it while she watched the television. She had just taken a shower, her hair was damp and her skin smelled of cocoa butter and something that must have been coconuts…It still smelled like her, he deeply inhaled and shut his eyes. There was something more about the scent, something she couldn't rub on her skin, he absolutely adored it.

When he woke up again there was barely enough sun shining through the windows, it must have been six or seven in the morning already. His neck hurt from the unusual way he had slept so he attempted to stretch it side to side as he made his way back to the bedroom. From the inside he could hear some muffled groans and he worried she might have been having a terrible dream like he had. When he turned the knob and opened the door he was surprised first see her long legs spread far apart, her head rested against the pillow with a familiar look in her glazed over brown eyes, her lips agape. It was hard to process what was going on in front of him.

She immediately jumped up and shut her legs.

"Rick what the fuck. Oh god," she shouted, attempting to cover herself with sudden modesty.

"I'm sorry," he found himself apologizing over and over again. In that one moment he had seen everything he had wanted to see, everything he had wanted to have and an insecurity hit him like a bullet to the head. How on earth could he handle that? It was a strangely beautiful thing he had just seen, but he shut the door before she could explain herself. What explanation could she give?

"Rick," she banged on the door before opening it up. "Sorry about that, I know, in your bed of all places."

"No it's alright," he muttered as he walked back to the living room. She had thrown on a t-shirt that barely covered her, she must have been hasty to apologize but he wasn't necessarily disgusted that she chose to do it there.

"I just got you know," her eyes were wide as she tiled her head, both hands making strange gestures only heightening the awkwardness of the situation. "We just haven't…n-not that I'm forcing you to."

"Y-you want me to make waffles or something," Rick changed the subject quickly as his eyes stared straight down at the floor.

"Do you want to?"

"Make waffles," he questioned as he nervously scratched his newly grown stubble.

"You know what I'm talking about," she bit on her thumbnail looking downwards at where he sat.

"I'm good Michonne," what did she need him for anyway?

"You had to have liked what you saw," there wasn't honey in her voice any longer. She spoke with utmost certainty.

Rick bit his lip. "One second it's yes, the other its no."

"You're not the king of consistency Rick," she snapped with her hands on her hips.

That independence, it was frightening, almost threatening. He really did want her but god knows why he was already running this into the ground. It all felt like an out of body experience. He looked sorry when their gaze met and her shoulders dropped immediately when she caught wind of this.

"You can't say I didn't warn you," she lowered her head, "I'm going back to Atlanta…I packed my bag, just leave me at the bus station."

Rick held his lips tightly together then stood up. "I'm sorry. Can we start over again," he watched her back until she disappeared into the bedroom without a single word. His joints barely allowed him to get up fast enough to chase her, it was still much too early in the morning to be doing this.

"What," she looked at him confused as she put on some sweat pants, "I'll be back. I just have a lot of shit to sort out."

"I'm not sure if I believe you," he cursed, his hand reached out to her arm which she quickly pulled away in surprise.

"For god's sake I'm not your wife Rick. I'll be back if the offer still stands."

"What offer?"

She shook her head side to side and covered her face in frustration, when she looked at him fiercely he stood down, tears forming in his piercing blue eyes. What on earth was wrong with him, she thought in disbelief. "You said I could come back whenever right?"

"That's right," his voice grew less shaky as he sat down on his side of the bed staring at his hands.

"Alright," groaned Michonne as she grabbed her cell phone and shoved it down her pocket. "You're such a god damned prude."

"It's not cause of…_that_," he slightly lifted his head to look over in her direction.

"I know men well enough Rick."

"You can't just group us all together like we're some god damned disease," he uttered underneath his breath as she was walking out the door. Suddenly her bag flew at his face and knocked him off the bed. She stood above him, with the most frightening look on her face, the whites of her eyes whiter than ever.

"You know what Rick? You are a fucking disease. What good are you? You're just a living breathing sperm bank. You're suffocating me and that's what you do to women. That must have been why Lori left. The way you touched my arm, the way you grabbed it. I don't want you to touch me like that ever again"

Rick cradled his face and shut his eyes.

"You tell me you love me or at least you allude to it and what do you expect, you want me to stay forever? Out of guilt? The truth is I don't know Rick. I don't know if I love you too, it's too fucking soon."

"I wasn't trying to hurt you," he finally spoke, looking away from her in fear of her response.

"I know," her chest heaved, "I'm just…seeing a man reach out to me like that—"

"Do you even like me," if Rick could hear himself, he'd notice how juvenile he sounded but he wanted to know.

"Do you even need to ask," she had calmed down and adjusted her footing, her calves hurting from being so tense. "We're both so fucked up, I don't even know why we're trying."

Rick looked so defenseless, so hurt, her words dug the knife deeper, she always had a problem with being so blunt. He slowly licked his lips unsure how to even respond, but she was right. "Ah…well."

"I'll be back. I need to think things out; I'll leave the cat here if that'll help. You like her right," she attempted to smile. Still he stood there, his shoulders hunched with nothing on except for his baggy boxers. It was possibly the saddest she had ever seen him and it hurt deeply to know that it was her own doing. She misunderstood him and she took it too far. Those words weren't for him, they were reserved for her ex-husband, residual resentment that she had attached to the whole male gender. She knew better than that. He wasn't made of stone like she was, or at least not with her. Closing the distance between them, she embraced him, her arms snaking around his waist. Instantly he buried his head in her neck and rubbed up and down her soft arms, he had been wanting this for so long. It was the intimacy he had been yearning for, fighting for.

"I don't mean to suffocate you."

Michonne laughed softly, "I didn't mean to throw my bag at your face."

"I deserved it," he smiled. She leaned in and gave him a chaste kiss at the corner of his lip. He blushed bashfully, soaking up that image she felt the urge to push it further. She couldn't help but kiss him full on the lips the second time. Her grip on him grew tighter until she shifted her weight so he fell on the bed, then moved her hair to the side and out of his face. His eyes were wide in surprise for a brief moment until he decided to return the kisses, his neck stretching eagerly for each one. Rick's hands wrapped around her small waist surprised at how narrow it was compared to her full hips, he moaned into her mouth in appreciation. She moved against him full of passion and need, her heartbeat going faster each second. Cheekily she smiled as her hand stroked his crotch. Looking down at her hand movements, his mouth opened wide watching her hand grope him fully.

"You like that," she muttered tenderly as she shot him deep sultry eyes, Michonne wasn't the kind to play coy. His only response was another deep kiss which she readily returned.

"Oh god," he dropped his head against the white blankets when her hand went down his boxers. She kissed his neck and bit it until she found that spot that made him involuntary gasp. How was she so utterly brilliant at multitasking, she was blowing Rick's mind. "Uh I can I," he stammered, sitting up and hooking his fingers on the elastic of her sweatpants. She nodded, her eyes saying something much different than what she had been expressing earlier. She was utterly, undeniably falling for him too, he just hadn't caught on until now. Shimmying out of her sweats she straddled him, her hands running through his hair until she was satisfied with the tuft she had found and pulled it. He groaned and shut his eyes, his lips looking red from all the rough kisses. Hungry for more he tried desperately to close the distance but she pulled harder each time he attempted to lean forward. She had a wicked look on her face. More than aware of how much he wanted her, she knew how much he had been fighting it the entire time and she was clearly getting off on it. His mouth was gaping and salivating just for the contact of her lips, she even deprived herself of such a luxury just for the satisfaction she felt from having control of the situation. The few moments felt too long, he grasped at her bottom giving it a soft squeeze. She gasped and giggled, his eyes grew warm and his shoulders less tense. He smiled crookedly before their lips were crushed against each other again, it was heavenly.

In disbelief of what was going on, what she was feeling, Michonne took a second to catch her breath. Her forehead rested against Rick's, his warm heavy breath hitting her skin. This was very much real, the realization hit her like a heavy weight on her chest. Blue eyes stared straight into her soft brown ones, her eyelashes opening and closing slowly like a caught fawn. Rick gave her a reassuring smile, she must have had no idea how dead afraid she looked. When she felt ready guided him inside, and their expressions changed. A flinch on her side and a twitch at the corner of his eye before they both sighed. Their breaths grew more labored but there was an air of relief between the two of them. It had been a long time coming.

Michonne was glad for once that she was sober. She could clearly see the freckles on his flushed skin, the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes, his striking blue eyes. He was there for the taking, looking foolish and completely vulnerable, but she liked that. There was a hitch is his breath as she rocked side to side, his fingers dug into her thighs finding more solace in squeezing her flesh. He loved the way she was built, she wasn't about to break any time soon, if anything she was capable of breaking him. When she moved faster his cheeks turned from a light pink to a dark flush, he was gasping for air like a fish out of water, beads of sweat trickling down his temples. For some reason he looked like he was about to cry, he gulped and blinked quickly. Watching him with a concerned look on her face, Michonne placed her hands on his shoulders. What was going through his mind? Was he thinking of Lori again?

"Baby you going to tell me when you're gonna come," she had no idea why she used that term of endearment, her head was foggy too from the blood pooling elsewhere. He nodded, biting on his lower lip, his hips moving with hers as he lifted up her shirt enough to catch a nipple in his mouth. It didn't stay there for long because her movements grew more erratic. Her hair was constantly getting in her mouth and sticking to the sweat that dripped down her cheeks. Somehow she found herself with her back up against the bed, her legs in the air, pulling them as far apart as she could greedy for more. She had this animalistic need to be as close as possible to him, she wanted him deep and she wanted him to crush her.

Rick was so enamored of seeing her this way but he couldn't help wondering why was it all for him, she felt miles away. She was quite possibly the sexiest thing he had ever seen in his life, her eyes were at their blackest, lustfully beckoning him to give it all he got. His face found refuge in her hair, the scent of the blankets he had slept in filled his nostrils but it was fresh and it nearly drove him over the edge as he thrust.

"You're so—" he gasped, grabbing at her thighs but she was slippery from sweat so it was hard to get a good grip.

She moaned, and threw her head back onto the white sheets, "F-fuck Rick," her vision was growing foggy when he got her at a right angle, "Give it to me," she growled, her hands reaching over her head clinging to the fabric just so she wouldn't dig her nails into him. Rick's knees grew weak as he struggled to stay up, he tried his best to think of everything else but this moment, the only other thing that came to mind was Lori miles away in that big house with Carl. The guilt would soon flood in and he'd push the thought away because Michonne was right there in front of him and he knew at any minute she could drift, the thinnest thread was keeping the both of them together.

She was his second chance, and he just didn't have the heart to dive in again. She was everything he had ever wanted.

He stroked her face and held her chin, taking in the beauty of her strength, defiance and utmost affection.

"Kiss me," she commanded her eyes nearly shutting closed. He did so immediately just as her thighs wrapped around his waist, her pelvis involuntarily convulsing, her belly rising and falling quickly just as she arched up against him pressing her chest fully against his. A breath escaped her lips and she rode out the orgasm, her toes curling just to feel if she was still alive or not. Rick immediately pulled out and came on her thigh, which he immediately apologized for once he had the energy to speak.

"I'm sorry," his face was a beet red.

"No it's alright," she smiled warmly, pushing him off of her.

"I got a little carried away," he had the strength to open one eye and barely squint the other. The expression was adorable; Michonne had to quickly look away.

"Mmm no I needed that."

"I hate that fucking t shirt," Rick cursed, "It kept getting in the way, it's still in the way now." He got on his elbows and pulled it off, Michonne allowed him with an amused look on her face. Feeling amorous Rick leaned in and left a trail of kisses down her chin, muttering sweet things that made her feel embarrassed.

"Stop it. I still need to go. I'm going to go hit the gym before I get on the bus, I know when I get home I won't want to do anything."

"If you want to burn calories I think I've got another round left in me," he sang flirtatiously. "Anyway I thought this was your home."

"It is," she giggled before she caught herself playing along. Her smile dropped and she sat up, "I need some time to think."

"Right," Rick's heart sank.

"I'm just getting sick, I'm letting it fall apart and I've been doing this for too long. _Pretending,_" she stood tall then turned towards him about to say something but suddenly the phone interrupted her. She dropped her head and left the room.

"Hello," answered Rick. At the other side of the line was a worried sounding Lori.

"Carl hasn't been adjusting," she spoke bluntly.

"I just talked to him the other day and he said he was doing fine."

"Who do you believe more Rick? He's refusing to go to school right now, I'm trying to get him to open up but he isn't saying a thing."

"You think it's the kids?"

"Why do you sound so out of breath?"

"I just woke up."

"Ok," she didn't sound entirely convinced, "I'm going to let him stay the day but it's so early into the year. What if he doesn't go tomorrow or the day after that?"

"I'll talk to him. He's coming this weekend right?"

"Yes Rick of course. Don't tell me you've forgotten."

"No I haven't I just wanted to double check," he covered his face with his hand. Michonne wandered back into the room to see him in visible distress. Her eyes widened and she mouthed _what's wrong_.

He shrugged and sighed, covering the receiver with his hand. "It's about Carl," he muttered.

"Is someone else there," Lori snapped.

Rick groaned and dropped his head, "Yeah."

"Oh god Rick I'm sorry if I'm being rude or intrusive," her voice shook anxiously, "I just have these nerves lately. Anything that can go wrong has and I don't know if I'm attracting this or what."

"Hold on, calm down. You always find a way to blame yourself for things out of your control."

"Is she nice? I mean I have to know—especially if Carl is going to meet her."

"Yes well—yeah. It's not serious though," he made the biggest eyes at Michonne, he clearly didn't want to be in the midst of this conversation, she too felt his pain. "I'm not even sure if she's going to be here when he is."

"How old is she? Is she the same girl from—"

"Last time? Yeah. I don't know what age, I haven't asked. Does it really matter?"

"I don't want Carl to be around some young loose—"

"Stop right there."

"Sorry. She's not young then?"

"No well, she's around my age but there's no point—"

"Yeah you're right," Lori's heart sank and she popped open a bottle of wine, her eyes locked on the television screen. "I'm going back to school."

"What? Really? That's great."

"Yeah, I had to take out a loan to pay for the tuition and books."

"At a university?"

Lori scoffed and downed a large gulp of red wine. "No. At one of those late night schools, I forget what they're called."

"Mmhmm," Rick raised his gaze to see Michonne was curiously watching him, leaning against the doorframe and he motioned her to get closer and pat on the bed. She followed suit, sitting in between his legs, he wrapped his arms around her as he was listening to Lori talking softly.

"The hours aren't that great but I need to retake some classes," Lori moved her hair behind her ear and sighed, "I'm glad you're happy." She lost her breath when she saw Carl emerge out of his bedroom with an irritated look on his face.

"Fine I'll go to school."

"Brush your hair at least," she nagged.

"Are you going to take me or am I going to have to walk."

"Your father is on the phone and he's hearing you talk to me like this."

"I don't care."

Rick let out a sigh and rested his head on Michonne's shoulder. She could hear everything; her eyes grew wide as she leaned against Rick making herself a little more comfortable despite feeling so out of place in this puzzle he was trying to piece together.

"Let me talk to him," interrupted Rick, his voice stern. Michonne had never heard him talk that way, then again she only observed him and Carl for a few seconds at least before she made a fool of herself and ran away. For a while she held on to that last thought as her eyes glazed over with sadness. "Look Carl why are you talking to your mother like that?"

"Dad I'm tired, you're making me late for school."

"Alright but remember we need to talk about this when I see you and please just stop taking it out on your mother, I swear."

"Okay I'm sorry."

Carl's apology didn't necessarily sound like he was genuine but Rick brushed it off. Lori returned to the phone out of breath, obviously stressed by the situation. "Will you remember?"

Rick nodded although she couldn't exactly see him, "It was bound to happen. He has every right to be upset I guess."

"I see," she choked on her words and covered her mouth; Carl was watching her looking anxious to go. The guilt had resurfaced; she had been so obsessed over the problem that she had forgotten what must have caused it in the first place.

"Not that it's your fault. It's mine."

Surprised by Rick's words Michonne looked up at him. He was back to his self-blaming ways and it frustrated her, she sat up pulling herself away from him but his hand reached for her waist. Back in the same position her gaze grew cold as she stared at the open door. Her cell phone began to vibrate on the nightstand and there was no doubt about it, she knew who was calling.

"Ok I'll talk to you later Lori, bye," the affection was still very much present in his voice as he hung up the phone. Kindly he grabbed Michonne's cell and handed it to her asking the one question she didn't want him to ask. "Who is Andrea?"


End file.
